Harry Potter and the Lost Library
by The Chocolate Frog
Summary: A slightly extended version of Chapter 13 added and Chapter 14 will be right around the corner. Ginny Weasley was presumed dead after the Battle for Hogwarts. Ten years later, she is discovered alive. How will her friends and family react? Exactly wha
1. Prologue: The Battle for Hogwarts

**DISCLAIMER:** I own nothing but a week-old TV Guide and some paper clips. Harry Potter and his world are the intellectual property of J. K. Rowling.  
  
**Harry Potter and The Lost Library**  
  
**Prologue: The Battle for Hogwarts**  
  
Lord Voldemort didn't attack in the deep recesses of the night as many had expected. The Death Eaters and Dementors slithered out of the Forbidden Forest just as students were settling into their afternoon classes. He had no doubt chosen this time to attack because Professor Dumbledore was often away on Order of the Phoenix business.  
  
Hagrid came running to the aid of his third year Care of Magical Creatures class, but his thick giant skin hadn't been enough to save him. Those students that surrendered their wands were bound and led away into the forest. Those that attempted to fight or flee to the castle were struck down.  
  
The second year Herbology class was also decimated before the first wave of resistance came pouring from the castle. The teachers, led by Professor McGonagall, met the onslaught. Behind them came the willing upper classmen from Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff. To the surprise of no one, the Slytherins had opted to remain hidden away in their dungeon, waiting to see which way the battle turned. Soon curses and counter curses were crisscrossing the air, creating a web of multicolored light streams. Cries of agony mixed freely with shouts of triumph. The battle lines surged back and forth like waves on the beach.  
  
Even with the teachers, the Hogwarts students were no match for the combination of Death Eaters and Dementors. Steadily they were being forced back towards the castle. It looked as though the battle was going to be very short indeed when the first reinforcements came from nearby Hogsmeade. Fred and George led the other Hogsmeade merchants into battle. They were not trained Aurors, but at least they were full-fledged witches and wizards. Now, fighting was raging on two fronts.  
  
Harry Potter was in the thick of battle surrounded by a close nit circle of his dearest friends. Unbeknownst to him, Ron, Hermione, Neville, and Ginny had sworn an oath to stay tight to his side no matter how the battle turned. They worked like a well-oiled machine, expertly deflecting curses and hurling incapacitating ones of their own.  
  
"This isn't right," Hermione uttered before turning to send her Patronus at a group of Dementors that were closing in on a group of Hufflepuffs. "Why is he focusing all his strength on a frontal assault?"  
  
"A DIVERSION!" Ginny and Ron yelled together.  
  
"We need to get back to the castle," Harry shouted. He hurled a jinx that sent three Death Eaters into the waiting embrace of the Whomping Willow.  
  
"We can't leave," Neville cried, "There's too many of them."  
  
Perhaps it was fate or maybe an answer to a prayer, but at that moment a horn sounded in the distance. Centaurs came pouring out of the forbidden forest armed with spears and bows. Almost simultaneously, an army of Aurors appeared on the road that led to Hogsmeade. Much to Harry's relief, he saw a wizard with a long white beard leading them. Dumbledore had arrived.  
  
"Now," Harry shouted.  
  
With determined nods, the five turned their back on the battle. The trek back into the castle was not without resistance. A group of Death Eaters and Dementors had tried to surround their opposition. They now blocked the group's progress. Tripping over their fallen classmates, Harry and the others managed to break through the dark line and dashed towards the entrance.  
  
As Hermione sealed the door behind them, Ginny cried, "Where's Neville?"  
  
"He must have gotten separated from us," Harry said quietly.  
  
"Oh no!" Hermione and Ginny sobbed. Ron looked stricken.  
  
"He can take care of himself," Harry said determinedly, but the whiteness of his face belied his fear. As they would find out much later, their fear was not unfounded. No friendly eye had witnessed Neville Longbottom's last stand. No friendly wands were there to send a Patronus at the Dementor that gave him a worse than fatal kiss.  
  
Compared to the loud roar of the battlefield, the interior of the castle was eerily quiet. "Where are they?" Ron asked.  
  
Harry pulled out a well-worn piece of paper from his pocket. Touching it lightly with his wand, he said, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good." Harry quickly scanned the Marauder's Map. The front lawn where they had just come from was a quivering jumble. There were so many tiny dots moving about that it was impossible to make out any names. Equally intense activity was occurring on the third floor where lines of dots corresponding to the younger students were fleeing through the secret tunnel to Hogsmeade.  
  
Harry soon found what he wanted. Standing in the second floor corridor was a circle of dots labeled: Tom Riddle, Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix Lestrange, Antonin Dolohov, and Walden Macnair. Harry wiped the map clean and shoved it back into his pocket. He looked resolutely at the stair well. "They're outside Moaning Myrtle's bathroom."  
  
"The Chamber of Secrets!" Ginny squeaked. Her face was so white it was almost translucent.  
  
"I doubt it," Hermione said while putting a comforting arm around Ginny. "There's nothing down there anymore. He must be after something else."  
  
With a great inhale of breath, Ginny straightened and clutched her wand determinedly. She gave a confident nod to Harry, Hermione and Ron followed suit. It was their final promise: it was the last time to screw up their courage before facing Lord Voldemort and his most faithful followers.  
  
"Let's go," Harry said. He took the stairs two at a time as he raced towards the second floor.  
  
When they reached the landing, Harry motioned for the others to be silent. Slowly and anxiously, they crept down the deserted corridors towards the girl's bathroom. As they neared the final corner, voices reached their ears.  
  
"The battle is turning ill, My Lord." Harry immediately recognized the somewhat panicked drawl of Lucius Malfoy. "We must hurry."  
  
"Patients, Malfoy," the high, cold, and sickeningly familiar voice of Lord Voldemort hissed. "What we seek is well hidden, even from my eyes."  
  
Harry saw the horror and panic in his companions' faces. Despite all their bravery, none of his friends had ever come face to face with Lord Voldemort. His expression became as grim as stone. "Leave him to me," Harry hissed.  
  
Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione sprung around the corner with their bodies tense and their wands up.  
  
"MASTER," shrieked Bellatrix, "The boy is here."  
  
"STOP HIM," shouted Voldemort before he disappeared into Myrtle's bathroom.  
  
The four Death Eaters turned and advanced on the students. Hermione fired the first jinx, which sent Macnair hurtling backwards. Ron sent a curse flying at Malfoy with a satisfied smirk on his face. Ginny faced off with Dolohov, leaving Bellatrix Lestrange to Harry.  
  
Three years of constant loss, fear, and struggle had changed Harry Potter. Hatred for Bellatrix had stamped out any thought of mercy. She must have sensed this, because her mocking expression changed to a fearful one. Harry didn't hesitate. "AVEDA KEDAVRA!" He yelled. Bellatrix collapsed like a marionette whose strings had been cut. Justice was finally served for Sirius Black.  
  
Turning his attention back to the ongoing struggle, Harry saw that Hermione had successfully stopped Macnair using a modified Petrificus spell of her own design. A rather ugly stone statue of Macnair now graced the corridor. Harry turned his attention to the others. Ginny had unleashed one of her Bat Bogey hexes on Dolohov, and he was whimpering in pain as she performed an especially tight binding spell. Only Ron seemed to be having a tough time of it.  
  
The mutual loathing between Lucius and Ron had turned their struggle into a duel with each blocking and attacking in turn. Malfoy was so intent on killing at least one Weasley he failed to notice he was now outnumbered four to one. Hermione shot a Stupefy curse at Malfoy that he dodged through sheer luck. His eyes widened as the four advanced on him.  
  
To Harry, what happened next seemed to be in slow motion. With an evil light in his eye, Malfoy suddenly turned towards Ginny, the one he perceived to be the least threat. "Something to remember me by Weasley," he sneered. Then his lips began to move in the words of the killing curse, and a green streak of light shot through the air. Hermione, who had immediately realized what was happening, sent a stream of blue light towards Ginny. At the same time, Dumbledore burst into the hallway leading a small bad of Aurors. He also sent a stream of yellow light in Ginny's direction. The three spells collided with Ginny simultaneously and she vanished.  
  
"Ginny!" Ron screamed. Forgetting Malfoy completely, he raced to the place where his sister had been standing moments before. He grabbed hopelessly at the air.  
  
Dumbledore and the Aurors rushed forward and secured Lucius Malfoy, who was laughing madly by this time.  
  
"Ginny, where are you?" Ron continued to desperately shout. He staggered around wildly calling for his sister. He grabbed a white-faced Hermione and shook her. "What happened? Where is she?"  
  
"She's gone," Hermione said, her voice shaking badly. Her wide eyes filled with fat tears. "She's gone."  
  
Ron froze with a twisted expression on his face. "No," he whimpered, "It can't be." Then Ron released a cry so filled with pain and despair that it would haunt those that had witnessed it. He collapsed sobbing to the floor. No longer able to support her own weight, Hermione sat down hard next to him. Still shaking like a leaf, she wrapped herself around Ron to comfort both herself and him.  
  
Harry felt like he had been stabbed in gut with a hot poker. It was like losing Sirius all over again, only worse. Anger, like bile, rose in his throat. He would kill Lucius Malfoy. He would...  
  
"Harry." The strangely calm voice of Dumbledore interrupted his rage. "Where is Lord Voldemort?"  
  
Harry looked at the wizard as if he had grown another head.  
  
"Where is Voldemort?" Dumbledore repeated, this time more urgently.  
  
Harry suddenly remembered himself. The battle might be won, but the war was not over. "He's gone to the Chamber of Secrets."  
  
"Hurry," Dumbledore ordered, "You must follow him. This may be our only chance. He may never be this vulnerable again." Seeing Harry's hesitation, he added, "I will take care of things out here."  
  
Harry shot one last glance at the tangled mess that was Ron and Hermione before dashing into the girl's bathroom.  
  
In the noise and commotion, Moaning Myrtle had taken refuge in her U-bend. Harry was left alone as he approached the sink. "Open up," he whispered. The words left his tongue in a series of hisses. Just as before, the tap glowed with a brilliant white light and began to spin. As Harry peered determinedly into the large exposed pipe, he thought, "_Strange. It began in the Chamber of Secrets. It will end there too_." He lowered himself slowly into the pipe and let go. 


	2. Half Life

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but a box of Cheez-its and Monopoly board. Harry Potter and his world are the intellectual property of J.K. Rowling.  
  
**Harry Potter and the Lost Library**  
  
**Chapter 1: Half Life**  
  
It had been ten years since that fateful battle for Hogwarts, and the memories of that day still haunted Harry Potter like a persistent poltergeist. Although his victory over Lord Voldemort had ushered in the most peaceful and united time since the founding of Hogwarts, the cost had been the lives of many great witches and wizards. Harry's circle of friends and mentors had been decreased by half. Sirius had been the first to fall, and now Remus Lupin was the only surviving Marauder. Ron and Hermione endured, but Ginny and Neville had not been able to escape the Death Eaters. Dumbledore had survived to head Hogwarts, but it was now without Hagrid's gentle presence. Tonks had escaped the battle with only a slight limp, but Mad-Eye had fallen by the lake. Finally in a cruel twist of fate, Professor Snape survived to teach and torture students, but Professor McGonagall's starched voice would never again be heard in the halls of Hogwarts.  
  
The Weasley's had lost two children in the war, Percy and Ginny. No one spoke of Percy or his passing. After three years spent distancing himself from his Weasley heritage, Percy's greed and ambition had gone to far. He became a Death Eater and sold ministry secrets to Voldemort. He was killed at the Battle of Hogwarts and buried in shame in the Forbidden Forest with his cohorts. Ginny, on the other hand, had been mourned and glorified in death.  
  
Of all the friends he had lost in battle, it was Ginny's death that left Harry with the most guilt. He had dragged her to her death, but he had never respected her in life. Time had made him understand that fact. Ginny had fought courageously beside him on three occasions, she had often acted as his sounding board, and yet he had always placed her beneath Ron and Hermione. He hadn't realized how much her friendship had meant until she was gone. Now there was a hole in his chest that was filled with regret.  
  
Despite all of the loss, life continued on. Harry spent the first six months after the war in a state of bewildered grief and guilt. Then he traveled the world for a time trying to forget or at least come to terms with the war. When he finally returned to England, Harry decided that it was about time that he started living life. He tried out for and won the seeker position for the Chudley Cannons. He played professional Quidditch for two full seasons. In his third season with the Cannons, Harry took a bludger to the face that left him with a blind spot. He was forced to resign his position, and the Cannons lost all hope for a national cup.  
  
With his Quidditch career just a memory, Harry thought that maybe it was time to start a real career. He entered into the Auror training program. However, when it came time to actually start tracking dark magic again, Harry found he had lost his taste for it. Feeling tired and lost, Harry retired to write his memoirs.  
  
The memoirs had been Hermione's idea. She believed that writing down his life story would help Harry deal with his feelings. Harry found the whole idea appalling. Spouting literary prose about his own exploits, it reeked of Gilderoy Lockhart. He understood that most of his "heroic" deeds had simply been a product of circumstance and not skill. He saw nothing in himself that was greater or braver than the other witches and wizards who had fought Voldemort. He didn't deserve to be placed on a pedestal when so many had sacrificed their lives in the war.  
  
Despite his disgust with the very idea, Harry had announced to his friends that he would be taking time off to write his autobiography. Why? Well it was simpler than explaining that he just wanted to stare at a wall for the next twenty years. Writing had proven to be an ample source of useless small talk, and he could easily explain his recent inactivity with two words, "writer's block."  
  
Harry's personal life had been just as unfulfilling as his professional one. He'd always had his share of girlfriends. There were the exotic affairs he'd had during his travels, the girls who hung around Quidditch pitches, and those women anxious to be seen and photographed with the Famous Harry Potter. Yes, Harry had learned to be polite, romantic, and generous with his current amour, but his relationships never lasted longer than a few months. In his entire life, Harry felt he had only really connected with two women, and both of those relationships had not been romantic in nature. Harry had come to the unfortunate conclusion that he was meant to remain single.  
  
Using the money he had inherited from his parents and Sirius, Harry had purchased a castle in Yorkshire eight years ago. A strange wizard named Avery Floogle had built it nearly five centuries ago. The average Muggle driving by would only notice a determinedly uninteresting pile of boulders or perhaps a bug infested marsh. The wizards and witches in the area saw a labyrinth of walls and towers that seemed to have grown at odd angles from the ground. Floogle Castle was the haphazard fortress equivalent of the Burrow and definitely offered more in the way of charm than comfort.  
  
Remus Lupin, Ron, and Hermione had moved in with Harry when he purchased Floogle Castle. Remus had moved out two years later when he was offered the Defense Against the Dark Arts position at Hogwarts. His heroic actions in war had been enough to over come his being a werewolf. Ron and Hermione had remained living in the castle even after they were married. Although this decision seemed strange to the outside world, it made the three friends happy, and that was all that mattered. Floogle Castle became a replacement for the Burrow, which had been destroyed in a retaliation attack several years earlier. All of the Weasleys had lived under Harry's roof at one time or another, and he wouldn't have had it any other way.  
  
Harry sat brooding in his library, or at least Hermione would have called it brooding. Harry liked to think of it as "contemplating reality." Ron, on the other hand, would have called it "going nutters" as Harry was having a nice debate with himself.  
  
"_You're twenty-seven years old and what have you done with yourself_?" asked a voice in his head. This was the voice that tended to point out that his tie was crooked and his socks didn't match.  
  
"_Well_," answered another voice, "_You did defeat the greatest dark wizard of all time_." Harry had to admit he liked this voice better. It was the one told him that he was entitled to another helping of pudding or that he could sleep for another five minutes.  
  
"_Tish-tosh_," replied the first voice. "_That was ages ago. What have you done lately_?"  
  
"_Well_," hesitated the second voice.  
  
The first voice pressed its advantage. "_See what I mean. You've by lying about the country letting the grass grow under your feet_."  
  
"_You did help Fred and George out when they expanded their business_," the second voice interjected. "_They wouldn't be England's number one joke shop if it wasn't for you_."  
  
"_Yes, yes, yes_," griped the first voice. "_You invested some Galleons and made a load of Galleons in return. Bully for you_!"  
  
"_Now, now! There's no need to get snarky_!" snapped the second voice.  
  
"_Hmph_!" grunted the first voice. "_Look at Ron. He's got a good job at the ministry, and he and Hermione are expecting their first child_."  
  
"_Stop going on about Ron and Hermione_," demanded the second voice. "_You're very happy for them_."  
  
"_Of course you are! I was just using them as an example," _said the first voice_. "I mean there's a guy who's been through the wringer with you, and yet he's still been able to get on with his life_."  
  
"_You are getting on with your life_," insisted the second voice.  
  
"_You're drying up like an old prune_," barked the first voice. "_You never finish anything you start_."  
  
"_That's not true_," reassured the second voice. "_Look at everything you've done with Floogle Castle. It's been totally redecorated_."  
  
"_Hermione did most of that_," the first voice reminded.  
  
"_You cleaned up the moat_," declared the second voice.  
  
"_And now it's infested with kelpies_," inserted the first voice.  
  
"_The garden_..." began the second voice.  
  
"_A series of mud-holes that the gnomes won't even go near_," interrupted the first voice.  
  
"_Cheeky_!" snapped the second voice.  
  
"_Bloody Mary Poppins_," retorted the first voice.  
  
Harry's internal debate was interrupted when Hermione strolled into the library. Despite being nearly seven months pregnant, she still insisted on carrying around huge stacks of books. Harry rushed forward to help her.  
  
"Oh I'm sorry Harry," she said, "I didn't see you there."  
  
"I can't imagine why," he quipped winking at her over the tower of leather bound volumes. He set them down on the edge of his desk. No doubt Dobby or Winky would put them away later. "What are you working on?"  
  
"Oh," Hermione murmured, "Some new material for my lectures." Hermione had taken over Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration classes at Hogwarts. But by allowing Professor Lupin to become head of Gryffindor House, she'd reduced her responsibilities and didn't have to live at Hogwarts. She was able to go to work in the morning and return home each night using floo powder.  
  
Harry raised his eyebrow at her. The fact that she couldn't meet his eyes told him she was lying. He glanced over at the book titles. There was "When Magic Goes Wrong" by Leonard March, "Why Crossing the Streams is Bad" by Egon Spengler, "Spell Interference" by Kathryn Bartholomew, and about a dozen or so similar titles. "Are your students really this horrid?" Harry teased.  
  
"What? Oh no, this is just a something I'm working on," she mumbled. Hermione was absently fingering the edge of her jumper. After nearly twenty years of friendship, Harry was now convinced Hermione was hiding something.  
  
"And just what are you working on?" he pressed.  
  
"Oh my goodness," Hermione gasped. She pressed the back of her hand to her forehead. "I don't feel so well. I think I better go lay down." Before Harry could even open his mouth, she swept through the library door.  
  
"_She's bluffing_," the first voice sneered.  
  
"_She's as healthy as a horse_," the second voice agreed, "_She never even had morning sickness_."  
  
Harry physically shook his head. He was definitely going nutters. 


	3. Hermione's Idea

**Disclaimer:** I am so very, very poor. Harry Potter and his universe are the intellectual property of J.K. Rowling.  
  
**Harry Potter and the Lost Library  
  
Chapter 3: Hermione's Idea**  
  
Harry apparated into Hogsmeade one Monday in mid-September. He strolled down to Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes where he met up with Fred and George. The twins always moved their headquarters from Diagon Alley to Hogsmeade during the school year to be closer to their target customers. The three set off to the Three Broomsticks for a mid-morning butterbeer. After a few drinks, Harry walked back towards the twin's shop with them.  
  
"Hey Harry," Fred said as he unlocked the shop's front door, "Are you in a hurry?"  
  
"A bit," Harry replied, "I'm suppose to meet with Professor Dumbledore today, and I need to stop by Hollyhock's before I go."  
  
"That's too bad," George said, "We've got a few prototypes that we'd like you to try out."  
  
Harry made a hasty retreat before Fred and George could suggest an alternate time for product testing. He strolled towards Hollyhock's. The garden shop sold a variety of plants from ordinary wildflowers to exotic species for potion gardens. A plump, old witch by the name of Tansy Foxglove was the proprietor. Just as he always did, Harry bought a large bouquet of Hollyhock's Wilt-Resistant flowers before heading to Hogwarts.  
  
The walk from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts was a bittersweet one. The school had been his beloved refuge and home for seven wonderful years, yet it was the site of some of his most painful memories. Harry paused for a moment as Hogwarts first came into view. The vista across the lake always stole his breath away as a menagerie of emotions washed over him. Eventually, a cool gust of wind came along and urged him forward.  
  
Harry passed through the entrance gate unhindered. The area between the outer wall and the castle had been a rolling lawn during his time at Hogwarts, but now was a memorial garden and a cemetery. Decorative ponds and rock gardens had been placed where the grass had refused to grow back. Beds overflowing with blooms lined the many paths, and small clusters of trees provided private areas to remember and grieve. Beyond the garden were rows of solemn white grave markers. A familiar lump caught in Harry's throat, and tears burned at the back of his eyes.  
  
Taking a deep breath, Harry wove his way through the well-tended flowers and shrubs. The cemetery was divided into four sections with one each for Hogsmeade residents, Aurors, faculty and staff, and Hogwarts students. Wide, white stone paths separated the sections and met at a tall fountain in the center of the cemetery. The base of the fountain was engraved with, "Erected in the memory of those who gave their lives to rid the world of darkness and champion freedom."  
  
Harry left flowers on Hagrid's, Professor McGonagall's, Sirius's, and Mad Eye Moody's graves before moving among the gravestones of his fallen schoolmates. He paused several times to remember or place a flower. Eventually, he made his way to one very special marker. Underneath a carving of the Gryffindor Lion was the epitaph, "Ginevra Weasley. Battle of Hogwarts. Beloved daughter, sister, and friend."  
  
Harry kneeled down to clear away some grass clippings and debris from the base of Ginny's headstone. Then he added the remainder of his Wilt- Resistant flowers to the vase in front of it. Hermione always ensured that Ginny's grave had a fresh bouquet of flowers, and Harry recognized one of the twin's handwriting on a small card that said, "We miss you and love you."  
  
It was while sitting by this grave, that the injustice of war seemed the most bitter to Harry. Ginny Weasley had ceased to exist right before his very eyes. Harry could still hear Ron's wails of grief in the back of his mind, and he was haunted by the echoing laughter of Lucius Malfoy. It wasn't right. It wasn't fair.  
  
"Hey Harry," a shaky voice said from behind him. Harry turned to see Ron carrying a dozen Wilt-Resistant roses.  
  
"Ron, what are you doing here?" Harry asked. Ron tucked his flowers in with Harry's and Hermione's.  
  
"Dumbledore wanted to meet with me about something," Ron answered gently tracing the letters of Ginny's name. "It seems like yesterday."  
  
"Yeah," Harry whispered. They sat in silence a minute or two before rising together and heading towards the castle.  
  
"What are you doing here, Harry?" Ron asked as they started to climb the steps to the castle entrance.  
  
"Same thing that you are," Harry answered pulling open the door. A wave of warm air hit them. Both he and Ron inhaled the familiar scent of Hogwarts.  
  
"Some things never change, do they?" Ron murmured.  
  
"No," Harry agreed as his lips turned up in a slight smile.  
  
They walked in companionable silence to the gargoyle that guarded the entrance to Dumbledore's office. "Do you know the password?" Ron asked.  
  
"It's Turkish Delight," a feminine voice said from behind.  
  
Harry greeted Hermione with a gentle hug then turned away while she and Ron exchanged a more private sort of hello. Hermione than swept past Harry and uttered the password. The gargoyle stood aside, and the three friends stepped onto the slowly moving spiral stairs.  
  
"What is this all about?" Harry asked Hermione as they rose steadily.  
  
"You'll have to wait until we reach the Headmaster's Office," she replied tersely. The agitated look in Hermione's eyes reminded Harry of their conversation in Floogle Castle's library a few days earlier.  
  
Dumbledore's office was just as he remembered it, full of interesting things beyond measure. Hogwarts' Headmaster was seated behind his large desk apparently indulging in a noontime snooze. Often while he was in school, Harry had wondered what the Headmaster did all day long. He had always assumed that it was something terribly more important than a nap.  
  
"Professor Dumbledore," Hermione said softly.  
  
Dumbledore's eyes snapped open so quickly that Harry wondered if he had been sleeping at all. "Ahhh, Professor Weasley," he said graciously, "Harry and Ron, good as always to see you."  
  
Harry and Ron simultaneously chanted, "Good afternoon Professor Dumbledore."  
  
"Come, come," Dumbledore continued, "You are no longer students here. Call me Albus."  
  
Harry and Ron nodded politely, but neither of them would ever think to address their former Headmaster by his given name.  
  
"Please," Dumbledore said motioning to two rather comfortable looking chairs, "Sit down."  
  
Ron and Harry waited politely for Hermione to sit, but she waved them off and went to stand by the fire. Ron sent Harry a questioning glance as they sat.  
  
Dumbledore chatted amiably with Ron and Harry about recent events in their lives and the latest news. When they had run the gambit of polite conversation, Dumbledore released a long sigh. "I suppose," he said, "that it is about time we got to the heart of the matter. Professor Weasley?"  
  
Hermione, who had been staring absently into the fire, jumped slightly upon hearing her name. She looked desperately at Ron and wrung her hands together in a nervous gesture. "I don't know how to say this," she stuttered.  
  
Ron shot Harry a brief confused look before going to his wife. He captured her hands in his. "Hermione," he said gently, "You can tell me anything. You know that."  
  
Hermione sent a frantic glance at Dumbledore who nodded encouragingly. She took a deep breath and said quickly, "Ginny might be alive."  
  
Harry choked loudly. He didn't know what he was expecting Hermione to say, but that definitely wasn't it. Ron was equally stunned. His face was whiter than snow, and his eyes were the size of milk saucers. "What!?!" he gasped.  
  
Feeling stronger after her initial admission, Hermione said, "I believe, and Professor Dumbledore agrees, that there is a chance Ginny might be alive."  
  
"I don't...I don't understand," Ron uttered. He staggered back slightly, and Hermione helped him to sit. Ron seemed completely bewildered. Repeatedly, he would start to stand up and then would sit down hard again.  
  
"Hermione, I think you better explain," Harry said in what was a remarkably calm tone.  
  
"Yes of course," Hermione replied quickly glancing at Harry. She seemed relieved that Harry was remaining cool. Looking frequently at Ron, she began to explain. "I've been thinking about this for a long time, and I've done a great deal of research.  
  
"We all remember what happened before Ginny disappeared. Lucius Malfoy," Hermione seemed to stumble on his name, "tried to use the killing curse on Ginny. Dumbledore and I both cast spells to try and protect her. The three spells hit her simultaneously, and she disappeared. After the battle was over, I kept running through the sequence of events in my mind and wondering what really happened. I couldn't convince myself that she was really gone.  
  
"My thoughts were nothing more than hopeful musings until I ran across a text in Professor McGonagall's personal library. It was all about the dangers of spell crossing. I began trying to track down every book I could find on the subject, and unfortunately, there are not very many. The more I read; the more I became convinced that there was hope for Ginny. You see, when more than one spell is cast on an individual at the same time, the effects become all distorted. Remember at the end of our fifth year, when Malfoy and his goons had that run in with the DA on the train. They were a mess afterwards."  
  
"Yeah," Harry said, "But Malfoy and his friends were fine."  
  
"A month later," Hermione reminded. "Besides, they were just hit by simple jinxes. You don't need to reverse them. You just have to cure the symptoms.  
  
"It is actually quite hard to predict the outcome when two charms are combined. Basically, you have to test every possible permutation of the spells in question. Professor Dumbledore used the Incolumitas charm, which is a safety or preservation spell. My charm was intended to move Ginny out of the way of the curse. I've worked out all the potential combinations of the two charms, and only one of them is a legitimate spell. That spell would have moved Ginny to a safe location."  
  
Harry glanced at Ron; neither had truly grasped what Hermione said. "That doesn't make any sense," Ron uttered, "If Ginny was moved to a safe place, then why didn't she turn up in a few days."  
  
Hermione's expression darkened. "Well you see," she explained, "My calculations didn't take into account the Aveda Kedavra curse. Including that spell increases the number permutations. Quite frankly, it would take me another ten years to figure out all the possible variations. So, I worked under the assumption that our spells hit Ginny first."  
  
"It is also quite possible that Ginny was moved to a location that she was unable to leave," Dumbledore added.  
  
Harry had almost forgotten that the Headmaster was still in the room. He searched Dumbledore's face for some sign of his opinion, but as usual, it was unreadable.  
  
"What does it all mean?" Ron demanded.  
  
"It means Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore clarified calmly, "That we might be able to perform a counter-charm and bring your sister back."  
  
Dumbledore's words hit the room with the force of a hurricane. Harry was too shocked to even think. Ron nearly turned his chair over when he stood up. His face was red with rage. "No," he shouted, "You're lying. This is all some sort of cruel joke." Hermione tried to comfort him, but he shrugged her off. "She can't be alive," he yelled, "we all saw her die."  
  
"Ron," Hermione said in a softly urgent voice, "Think about what you saw. Three spells hit Ginny, and she disappeared. She didn't collapse. There was no body."  
  
Ron wildly swung his gaze from his wife to Dumbledore to Harry. Finally, he collapsed back into his chair and buried his face in his hands.  
  
"Ron," Hermione whispered gently kneeling down before him, "I know that you blame yourself for losing Ginny. I think I can safely say that everyone in this room have felt themselves responsible for what happened, but don't you see, we have hope now. There is a chance that we can get her back."  
  
Ron met his wife's gaze for a moment or two before pulling her into his lap. Harry discreetly turned his head away and was amused to see Dumbledore do the same. A few awkward minutes past before Ron said, "What do we do?"  
  
The procedure was extraordinarily complicated. Dumbledore and Hermione would have to simultaneously say different spells that combined to make the counter-charm. Also, they had to be standing in the exact location where they cast their initial charms from ten years ago, and the spells had to intersect at the precise position where Ginny had been standing.  
  
"That's impossible," Ron muttered after forcing Hermione to explain the process again.  
  
"It is very tricky," Dumbledore agreed, "but Professor Weasley and I have choreographed the whole charm. All we need is a little help from you and Mr. Potter."  
  
"What?" Harry asked. He was willing to donate anything to the cause.  
  
"We need your memories of that afternoon so that we can triangulate each of our positions in the hallway," Hermione explained.  
  
In very short order, Harry and Ron had removed a silver thread of memory from their temples and placed it in Dumbledore's pensive. Hermione's and Dumbledore's memories were then added, and the whole lot was emptied into a strange looking machine on the edge of Dumbledore's desk. The contraption hummed and hissed for a moment, then it glowed bright orange. Dumbledore placed his wand into the machine and declared, "That's done it."  
  
After their memories were returned, the group rose rather shakily.  
  
"Before we go any further," Dumbledore said, "you must all understand that it is very unlikely that this counter-charm will work. The odds are against us that we will be able to perfectly execute the counter-charm. Even if we manage the counter-charm correctly, it might not give us the desired results."  
  
"But there is a chance?" Ron demanded.  
  
"A very slight one, yes," Dumbledore replied.  
  
"Than we must try," Ron stated.  
  
Harry felt slightly nauseous as the group made their way to the hallway outside Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. There were so many things that could go wrong, and so many variables to consider. Was it conceivable that all these improbabilities could add up to a possibility? And, what would it mean if they did? Could Ginny Weasley really be alive? An ember of hope was kindled deep within his chest.  
  
"The student's are assembled in the Great Hall for lunch," Dumbledore said, "but just in case..." He muttered a spell to seal off the hallway at either end. "Are we ready to begin?"  
  
"Wait," Ron said, "Shouldn't we contact my Mum and Dad?"  
  
"I don't think it would be wise to get their hopes up," Hermione said as gently as possible.  
  
"Right," Ron mumbled, "Of course. How stupid!"  
  
Dumbledore waved his wand, and a series of X's appeared on the floor. "I'm the yellow one," he said, "Hermione, you're blue. Harry is red and Ron is green. Ginny would have been standing on the purple X. Everyone take your position."  
  
Harry went over and stood where the red X slashed the floor. As he looked around, a sickening sense of déjà vu infiltrated his mind. He turned until he was facing the purple X. Much to his astonishment, a translucent figure of Ginny was standing there. Her body was froze in the exact pose Harry remembered seeing her in a split second before she disappeared.  
  
Harry and Ron had no active part to play in the counter-charm. They merely stood by anxiously and watched as a Hermione and Dumbledore exchanged nods. A counter appeared above the mock-up of Ginny. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one. Dumbledore and Hermione each let loose their charms. This time, the stream from Hermione's wand was orange and Dumbledore's was violet. The two energy streams collided exactly where the figure of Ginny was standing. Everyone held their breath and watched expectantly.  
  
Nothing happened.  
  
"It...it didn't work. It didn't work," Hermione stuttered disbelievingly. "Maybe our timing was off. We could try again." Desperation had crept into her voice. She didn't want to believe that all those years of work were for nothing. That would mean that there wasn't any hope.  
  
"We all knew that this was a possibility," Dumbledore said quietly, but Harry could read the disappointment in his face.  
  
"We couldn't really expect it to work the first time," Hermione said quickly, "Let's try it once more."  
  
"No," said a sad and resolute voice. Everyone turned to face Ron. His head was bowed and his eyes clenched shut. "She's truly gone."  
  
The small ember of hope in Harry's chest was doused, and he felt colder than ever before. He went to offer what little comfort he could to Ron.  
  
Dumbledore waved his wand. The X's on the floor, the counter, the Ginny stand-in, and the hallway barriers disappeared. In their place remained shock and sadness.  
  
"PROFESSOR DUMBLEDORE," a voice shouted, "PROFESSOR DUMBLEDORE." The occupants of the hallway turned to see Professor Lupin hurrying towards them. "Come quick," he cried, "A woman has fallen through the ceiling of the Great Hall." 


	4. Miracles

**Disclaimer:** Me nothing, J.K. Rowling everthing.

**Harry Potter and the Lost Library  
  
Chapter 3: Miracles**  
  
Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Dumbledore rushed downstairs after Professor Lupin. They arrived just in time to see Professor Snape coming out of the Great Hall levitating a woman with flaming red hair in front of him. Behind him, Harry caught a glance of the staff trying to regain control of the pandemonium that had broken out among the students.  
  
Ron nearly tackled Snape as he rushed examine the woman. He captured one of her limp white hands with one of his own. Then he gently turned her face towards him. He let out a choked sob. "It's her! It's Ginny!" he cried.  
  
Hermione would have fallen had Harry not be quicker. She sobbed hysterically into Harry's shoulder as she released ten years worth of guilt, grief, and hesitant hope.  
  
Snape, who seemed to find the whole experience distasteful, said dryly, "She need's to go to the hospital wing."  
  
Ron refused to let go of his sister's hand and stumbled along side her sagging form. He only took his eyes off her face for the brief moments it took him to wipe his leaking eyes and nose. Harry practically carried a sobbing Hermione after them. Behind him, Harry heard Dumbledore trying to explain the situation to a confused Lupin.  
  
"Is that really Ginny Weasley?" Lupin asked.  
  
"Her brother seems to thinks so," Dumbledore answered. His voice was vague as if his mind was on other matters.  
  
"How can this be?" Lupin question. "She died in the Battle of Hogwarts."  
  
"Some things are not always what they seem," Dumbledore replied.  
  
Once they reached the hospital wing, Madame Pomfrey took charge. Harry and Hermione were obliged to wait in the corridor with the Professors, but Ron was allowed to stay with his sister because no one had the heart or strength to separate them. Professors Snape and Lupin waited around for a bit, but they were drawn away when it was time to start the afternoon lessons. The minutes continued to tick by endlessly until Madame Pomfrey allowed them into the room.  
  
Dumbledore pulled the school nurse aside as Harry and Hermione joined Ron at Ginny's beside. He was still holding tight onto her hand and staring with wide eyes at her face. Hermione sat down beside him. She hesitated briefly before gently laying a hand on Ginny's knee. Harry drifted over to the other side of the bed. Soon, he laid a hand on Ginny's shoulder. It was as if all three of them need tangible proof that she was actually there. As their fingers touched real flesh and bone, they feared to move them in case she might dissolve into smoke.  
  
Harry had never believed in miracles, but now the evidence of one was right before his eyes. Ginny Weasley was alive. She had fallen through the enchanted ceiling of Great Hall and crashed into the Ravenclaw table. Hermione's impossible charm had worked.  
  
There was only a small trace of the girl Harry had known in the woman before him. Although she was lying down, he thought she was taller and thinner. Her waist length, slightly unkempt, hair was several shades darker than Harry recalled. Her face had lost the soft roundness of youth, and now the gracefulness of her fine bone structure showed through. Her complexion was marked by an unhealthy paleness, as if she hadn't seen the sun in years. "She's quite pretty," Harry was surprised to find himself thinking.  
  
"She broke her arm in the fall," Harry could overhear Madame Pomfrey telling Dumbledore, "and sustained minor bruising around her ribs."  
  
"When do you expect her to regain consciousness?" Dumbledore asked.  
  
"I expect that she'll come around soon," Madame Pomfrey explained, "but I think it might be wise to move her to St. Mungo's."  
  
The mention of the wizarding hospital had captured Ron's attention. "St. Mungo's?" he asked.  
  
Madame Pomfrey, whose back was to them, seemed to jump slightly at Ron's question. As she turned towards them, an emotion akin to worry was etched on her face. Harry had seen the Hogwarts' nurse regrow bones, treat petrified persons, and reverse grotesque curses without even batting an eye. Her uneasiness about Ginny's condition instantly concerned Harry. "I think that St. Mungo's is better equipped to deal with possible spell damage," Madame Pomfrey said diplomatically, "especially when such powerful spells are involved."  
  
"She's...she's waking up," Ron cried. Madame Pomfrey and Professor Dumbledore drew nearer. Five pairs of eyes focused on the woman in the bed.  
  
A soft groan escaped Ginny's lips. The muscles in her face contracted in an uncomfortable grimace, and she tried to pull her hand from Ron's grip. Her eyelashes fluttered gently against her cheeks before slowly opening. She turned her face towards Ron.  
  
"Ginny it's me, Ron, your brother," he whispered as fresh tears escaped his eyes. Ginny starred unblinkingly at him until he squirmed slightly, then she slowly turned her head away and looked directly at Harry.  
  
There was no softness in Ginny's eyes. They were sullen and haunted. Gazing into them was like staring down a darkened corridor of immeasurable length filled with unknown creatures. Harry felt her stare penetrate and probe the deepest and most secret parts of him. His relief was almost physical as she turned towards Dumbledore then Madame Pomfrey and Hermione.  
  
"You're not real," she whispered finally before closing her eyes tight against them.  
  
"Ginny, we're here. Hermione and Dumbledore did a spell to bring you back," Ron explained gently. To reinforce his claim on reality, he touched his free hand to her face.  
  
"NO," Ginny yelled hoarsely. With amazing strength and speed, she threw off their hands and leapt from the bed. She nearly ran over Harry in her desperation to escape.  
  
"Miss Weasley," Madame Pomfrey called after her, "You need to lay down. You've had a nasty fall."  
  
Dumbledore moved with lightening speed and blocked the exit. Limping slightly, Ginny retreated in the opposite direction. She was soon cornered against the wall. "Get back," she yelled feebly at them, "I don't know what kind of demons you are, but stay back."  
  
"Ginny," Hermione said softly. "We're not demons. We're your friends. I know that you're confused and frightened, but we want to help you."  
  
While Ginny's attention was focused on Hermione, Harry crept closer to her. He was hoping to grab hold of her and restrain her from hurting herself. Just as Harry was about spring, Ginny whipped towards him. She shouted out something in an unknown tongue, and a barely visible distortion in the air radiated out from her like ripples on the surface of a pond. As the wave of energy hit him, Harry only felt a brief puff of air. The others seemed just as unaffected, but the power of the spell knocked over furniture and blew out the windows and doors of the infirmary. The whole castle seemed to shutter briefly before plunging into silence.  
  
The force of the spell seemed to drain Ginny. Harry saw her eyes roll back, and he caught her seconds before she collapsed on the floor. She barely weighed anything as he swept her up in his arms. He couldn't help but notice that she smelled rather sweet.  
  
"Put her back on the bed," Professor Dumbledore ordered. He seemed to be the least affected by the experience.  
  
All the beds were chaotically arranged at strange angles, but Harry gently laid Ginny down on the nearest one. Still shaking slightly, Madame Pomfrey disappeared into one of the anterooms and immerged seconds later with a small bottle. She pulled the cork from the vial and placed it under Ginny's nose.  
  
"Is that to revive her?" Ron asked.  
  
"No," Madame Pomfrey said flatly, "This is to ensure that she doesn't wake up until she reaches St. Mungo's."  
  
"I'll arrange the transfer immediately," Dumbledore said calmly. "I also suspect there will need to be some damage control from Miss Weasley's little spell." After Dumbledore left, Madame Pomfrey retreated to one of the side rooms.  
  
"What was that?" Ron asked before plopping down beside his sister.  
  
"I don't know," Hermione murmured. "It was pretty powerful though."  
  
"Are you all right?" Ron demanded suddenly. He rose and yielded his seat to his wife.  
  
"I'm fine," Hermione assured. "I only felt a breath of air when it hit me."  
  
"Me too," Harry said. He turned to look at the rest of the room. "But the hospital wing looks like a typhoon hit it."  
  
As the three lapsed into silence, Harry's mind began to wander back to Ginny. Harry was surprised to realize that she was wearing and extremely worn and frequently mended Gryffindor robe. As he looked closer, he realized that Ginny was wearing the same clothing that she had disappeared in. Something about that fact made Harry uneasy, and he was about to voice it to Hermione and Ron when Madame Pomfrey swept back into the room.  
  
The nurse seemed to have regained her confidence. Though as she passed Harry, he smelled the slight scent of whiskey. "I need to re-examine Miss Weasley and prepare her for her trip to St. Mungo's," she said stiffly. Harry and Hermione retreated to the corridor, and this time Ron came with them.  
  
Hermione and Ron huddled together on a bench along the wall whispering. Harry remained standing, and soon found himself absently pacing.  
  
"Harry," Hermione said, causing him to pause, "Ron and I are going to travel with Ginny to St. Mungo's. We were wondering if you could contact the rest of the family and have them meet us there."  
  
"Not a problem," Harry murmured before returning to his walk up and down the hallway.  
  
After a few minutes, Madame Pomfrey popped out to tell them Ginny was prepared. They came back into the infirmary to find Ginny dressed in a nightgown and firmly strapped to a stretcher. "Only for her safety during the journey," Madame Pomfrey assured them.  
  
Harry, Hermione, and Ron waited patiently by Ginny's side until Dumbledore returned. He used the Portis charm to make Ginny's stretcher into a port key, and soon Harry was left alone with the school nurse.  
  
"Madame Pomfrey," Harry asked, "Do you have a pen and parchment that I could borrow?"  
  
"Of course," the nurse replied kindly. "You can use my office while I try clean up the mess in here."  
  
Sitting alone in Madame Pomfrey's office, Harry was a bit of a loss. What was he supposed to say? This wasn't the sort of news one put in a letter, but the alternative was going in person. The very thought of trying to explain the events of this afternoon face to face with Ron's parents petrified Harry. He decided to let the Weasley's discover the truth on their own. He wrote:  
  
Mr. and Mrs. Weasley:  
  
You need to go to St. Mungo's Hospital immediately. Everyone is okay, but it is an emergency. I will explain as soon as you get there.  
  
Love, Harry  
  
Harry made two more copies of the letter. He addressed one to Bill and Fleur and one to Charlie. Harry decided that he would stop by Fred and George's in person. Quickly sealing up the letters in envelopes, he took them to the Owlery and then set off for Hogsmeade.


	5. The Girl Who Lived

**DISCLAIMER:** This is only a bit of entertainment drafted for my own amusement. Harry Potter and his world are the intellectual property of J.K. Rowling.  
  
**Harry Potter and The Lost Library  
  
Chapter 4: The Girl Who Lived**  
  
Harry stopped short as a loud BANG echoed through the streets of Hogsmeade. Soon, he saw a foul smelling smoke began to seep out of the cracks around the windows and doors of Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes. Suddenly, the shop door burst open and out staggered three bent-over figures coughing and wheezing as smoke poured out of the opening.  
  
"Somehow," Fred gasped, "I think we added to much Erumpent fluid."  
  
"WHAT?" yelled Lee Jordan.  
  
"Maybe, we should go back to using Whomping Willow sap," George suggested.  
  
"WHAT?" repeated Lee. He was shaking his head with a confused look on his face.  
  
"Lee's gone deaf again," Fred said while trying to pat down his singed hair.  
  
"Maybe we should start paying him for product testing," George replied. He groaned with disgust as a quick check assured him that he was without eyebrows.  
  
"YOU TWO HAVE GONE MUTE AGAIN," Lee shouted.  
  
Fred and George burst out laughing.  
  
Harry regained his senses and rushed forward. "Fred, George," he said quickly, "You need to go to St. Mungo's."  
  
The twins turned toward Harry with surprised looks on their faces. "Na," Fred replied, "Don't worry about us."  
  
"Yeah," George continued, "we blow ourselves up at least once a week. It drives the neighbors batty."  
  
"HEY HARRY," Lee yelled.  
  
Harry sent him a quick wave before focusing back on the twins. "No," Harry explained, "This is an emergency. Ron and Hermione are waiting for us there."  
  
At the mention of their brother and his wife, Fred and George sobered up. "Is everything okay?" George asked sharply.  
  
"Yeah," Harry replied, "but we need to get to St. Mungo's as soon as possible."  
  
Fred turned to Lee. "Hey Lee!" He had to wave his arms around a bit to get Lee's attention. "Can you clean up the shop for us?" He pantomimed the act of sweeping while pointing at the shop. "We're going with Harry." He gestured between George and himself, wiggled his fingers so that they looked like they were walking, and pointed to Harry.  
  
"YEAH," Lee agreed, "I CAN MAKE ANOTHER BATCH FOR HARRY!"  
  
"Close enough," George sighed as Lee staggered back into the shop.  
  
Harry, Fred, and George apparated into the lobby of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Harry had been here many times since his first visit twelve years ago. The reception area was significantly calmer than it had been during that Christmas season, and there was no queue in front of the inquiry desk.  
  
The plump Welcome Witch took one look at the charred Weasley twins before saying, "Artifact Accidents. Down the hall and to the right."  
  
"No," Harry said, "We're not here for them. Their sister was brought in earlier."  
  
"Oh," the Welcome Witch said with wide eyes, "Fourth Floor, Spell Damage."  
  
"Right," Harry said turning away. He ignored Fred and George's curious looks, but it was harder to dodge their questions.  
  
"Spell damage?" Fred asked. "Why'd they take Hermione to spell damage?"  
  
"Did one of her students hex her?" George demanded. "Bloody dangerous. Her being pregnant and all."  
  
Harry remained silent and let them believe it was Hermione upstairs in a hospital bed. I can't just blurt it out on a public stair, Harry justified to himself. This is something they should hear from Ron.  
  
One of the healers on the Fourth Floor directed the trio to a door. It turned out to be a private sort of waiting room. Inside, Ron and Hermione were sitting side by side on a small sofa with their hands tightly woven together. Harry merely nodded at the pair before taking a seat, but the twins gaped at the couple.  
  
"What the hell happened to you?" Ron asked.  
  
"Product testing," George replied.  
  
"Harry said that Hermione had been hexed by one of her students," Fred added.  
  
Ron shot a confused look at Harry. "That's just what you assumed," Harry said with a shrug.  
  
"Hermione dear," Mrs. Weasley said hustling into the room with her husband behind her. "Are you and the baby all right?"  
  
"Everything's fine, Mum," Ron uttered.  
  
Seeing that Hermione was indeed fine, Mrs. Weasley jumped to the next logical conclusion. "What happened to Fleur?"  
  
"Nothing," a heavily accented voice said from the door. "I am fine." The beautiful blond woman was standing between her husband, Bill, and his brother, Charlie.  
  
The atmosphere of the small waiting room became tense and awkward as each Weasley came to the realization that they were all present and in seemingly good health. Slowly, seven pairs of eyes came to rest squarely on Harry. After all, it was he who had sent out the urgent letters.  
  
"It's Ginny," Harry blurted out. The entire Weasley clan gasped in astonishment a second before releasing a tidal wave. "What do you mean?" Charlie and Bill asked simultaneously. "That's not funny!" George snapped while Fred nodded his agreement. "Harry," admonished Mr. Weasley. "Explain yourself," Mrs. Weasley demanded. Harry smiled weakly. He looked at Ron, who looked at Hermione. She sighed heavily and began to launch into a lengthy explanation.  
  
Hermione described in great detail about her suspicions that Ginny might be alive, how she had researched spell crossing and approached Dumbledore with her ideas, and about the counter-charm they had devised. As she went over every moment from the meeting in Dumbledore's office to Ginny's transfer to St. Mungo's, Harry found himself not believing the tale even though he had witnessed the events. It was simply too amazing.  
  
A stunned silence over took the room after Hermione finished. Mrs. Weasley had sunk down into a chair during Hermione's speech, and a shaky Mr. Weasley was leaning weakly on the wall next to her. Fred and George had identical shocked expressions on their faces, and underneath the soot, their skin was ghostly white. Bill was frozen except for a muscle that twitched in his neck, and Charlie was opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water.  
  
"Mr. and Mrs. Weasley," a polite voice interrupted. A young healer in lime green robes hesitantly wove his way into the room. "We've finished our examination. You can see her now."  
  
Hearing confirmation of the events from the lips of a complete stranger made the situation concrete in their minds. Mrs. Weasley released a small, high-pitched shriek. "My baby is alive," she cried before breaking into hysterical sobs.  
  
Harry and Ron each grasp Mrs. Weasley under one arm and led/carried her out of the waiting room. Hermione followed leading her shaky father-in-law with the help of Fleur. The rest of the Weasley brothers shuffled absently after them.  
  
The young healer led them past the door to the Janus Thickly ward towards the end of the corridor. As they marched past various doors, strange sounds and scents drifted toward them. A low-pitched moaning came from a partially open door to the right, and the healer pulled it gently shut with an apologetic smile. Turning to the opposite door, he said, "Do to the unusual circumstances of this case, the head healer has assigned Miss Weasley a private room."  
  
The room beyond the door was small and drab. The walls were a sickly color of blue-green that was intended to be comforting. There were two rectangular windows along wall that let in light, but the glass was frosted so that it was impossible to make out the view.  
  
Harry was amazed to see that Ginny was awake and alert when they entered the room. She was propped up with several pillows and looked as if she had just finished a conversation with the man sitting along her bedside. Harry had forgotten that Albus Dumbledore had went with Ginny to St. Mungo's, and he was surprised that the headmaster had remained with her while Ron and Hermione had been sent to a waiting room.  
  
Ron cleared his throat to draw Ginny and Dumbledore's attention. Ginny's eyes widened as she saw them. Her face paled, making the bruise on her right cheek stand out even more. "Mum," she whispered unsteadily, "Dad."  
  
Ginny's words triggered a surge as her family fell upon her. Harry was pushed roughly to the side as Weasleys surrounded the hospital bed. He started to make his way along the wall amid the weeping and cheers. Harry left to give the family a private moment and escaped into the hallway. He released a haggard sigh, closed his eyes, and leaned against the wall.  
  
"It's been quite a day Harry, hasn't it?" a voice asked gently. Harry's eyes sprung open to see that Dumbledore had joined him in the corridor. The old headmaster had a familiar gleam in his eyes.  
  
"I can't believe this is happening," Harry uttered. "I mean she was dead. We mourned her, and then we got on with our lives. For God's sake, it's been ten years."  
  
"It's a very confusing time," Dumbledore agreed, "for everyone involved, including Ginny."  
  
Harry thought back to the hospital wing. Ginny had been so confused and frightened. "What was that spell she used on us?"  
  
"Ahhh," Dumbledore sighed. "That was a very ancient curse used to banish away demons and evil spirits. Aztec in origin, I believe."  
  
Harry's mind couldn't quite digest this information. "Why would she think we were evil spirits? Where was she?"  
  
"You've hit the proverbial nail on the head, Harry," Dumbledore said. "That's a question that needs answering, and I have a good idea were to begin the search. If my suspicions are correct, Miss Weasley may have a rough road ahead of her."  
  
Harry felt a flutter of panic well up within him. "Is she going to be all right?" he demanded. The Weasleys would be devastated if they lost Ginny all over again.  
  
"Only time will tell," Dumbledore replied cryptically. A strange sparkled filled his eyes as he continued, "but I seem to remember that Miss Weasley had an exceptionally strong spirit."  
  
Hermione and Ron chose that moment to poke their heads out of Ginny's hospital room. "There you are Harry," Ron said. "We've been wondering where you ran off to."  
  
"I better get back to Hogwarts," Dumbledore replied. "There has been quite an uproar there today." He looked at Hermione. "Of course, feel free to take a leave of absence Professor Weasley."  
  
"Thank you Headmaster," Hermione said. She tucked her arm under her husband's and smiled softly.  
  
Dumbledore disapparated before Harry could say goodbye.  
  
"Come on in, Harry," Ron said gesturing into the hospital room, "we've been catching Ginny up on what she's missed."  
  
Harry followed Ron and Hermione back into Ginny's room. Ginny was now squished between her mother and father on the small hospital bed. Her brother's were all hovering around eagerly with giant grins on their faces. Harry couldn't help but notice that Ginny's pallor had not improved and she wore an uncomfortable look on her face.  
  
"Fleur and I were married shortly after the war," Bill was telling his sister while squeezing his wife's waist. "We have two sons. William Junior, or Will as we call him, is seven, and Arthur, Arty, is five."  
  
"George and I have opened four more shops," Fred interrupted, "and the mail-order catalogue has been really successful."  
  
"I've been working in China off and on for the past two years," Charlie put in, "Chinese dragon care is so different from European species."  
  
"You're father was made Head of Muggle Relations," Mrs. Weasley was saying, "and I've been keeping busy with charity work."  
  
It went on and on. Each Weasley was trying to impart the last ten years of their lives in no particular order. Harry watched Ginny's eyes widen and glaze over. An anxious atmosphere began to fill the room, and the Weasleys increased the speed of their talking. Just when Harry thought Ginny had shut down completely, she extended her uninjured arm to gently touch Hermione's large stomach.  
  
The room fell silent. "Ron and I are going to have a baby," Hermione explained softly.  
  
Ginny withdrew her hand slowly. For a moment, Harry saw a spark race across her eyes. A small smile twitched on her lips. "So I guess you two found something else to do besides fight," she said softly.  
  
Ron instantly turned a brilliant shade of red, and Hermione blushed charmingly. Fred and George broke out into peels of laughter, and everyone relaxed slightly. Besides cutting the growing tension, Ginny's comment had reassured her family that she was indeed back with them.  
  
A hesitant cough drew the attention of those in the room. A somewhat familiar healer in lime green robes was standing in the doorway with a clipboard. "Hello," he said, "I'm the Healer-in-Charge of the Spell Damage floor, Augustus Pye."  
  
"Pye," Arthur Weasley called amiably, "I thought you were into treating bites and such."  
  
"I was," the healer said, "but during the war there was a much greater need for healers in this ward."  
  
"How is Ginny, Mr. Pye?" Mrs. Weasley demanded.  
  
"Well," Pye replied looking down at her chart, "we haven't been able to detect any lasting spell damage, but I think we should keep Miss Weasley a few days for observation. Unfortunately, hospital policy does not allow more than one family member to stay with a patient."  
  
"I'll stay," Mrs. Weasley said immediately.  
  
The Weasley men looked disappointed but not surprised. One by one, they took their leave, each hugging and whispering words of love to Ginny. They tried to hide their concern and disappointment that she didn't respond to their gestures.  
  
Harry shuffled towards the bed when it was his turn. He bent down and gave her an awkward hug. "I'm glad your back Gin," he whispered before pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. He withdrew quickly.  
  
Harry apparated into the front hall of Floogle Castle. It was early evening, and the last rays of sunlight struck the stained glass of the hall windows casting a red glow over the hall. For the first time in what seemed like years, Harry could hear his own thoughts. He sat down on the bottom stair and rested his head in his hands. It had been a heavy day, and Harry didn't honestly know how he should be feeling.  
  
Harry could still remember the memorial service the Weasleys had held for Ginny after Voldemort's defeat. One by one, Ginny's family and friends had stood up and given testimony of the girl they knew. As Ginny lived again through their anecdotes, he remembered wishing he had taken the time to know her better. He was the only one who didn't share at least one memory of the youngest Weasley. He had stared at the floor the entire time because he was too ashamed and guilt ridden to meet the other's eyes.  
  
"Harry Potter sir," a voice squeaked.  
  
Harry raised his head to find Dobby standing before him. Dobby and his friend Winky had come to serve Harry soon after he purchased Floogle Castle. Serving a single family was much better suited to the two elves than dealing with a school full of unruly students. "Hello Dobby," Harry murmured.  
  
"Is Harry Potter all right, sir?" the elf asked.  
  
"I'm just tired Dobby, "Harry replied. "I'm going to retire to my rooms. Hermione and Ron will be back later and maybe some of the other Weasleys as well. Be sure you and Winky give them anything they need."  
  
"Of course, Mr. Potter," the elf said bowing lowly before disappearing.  
  
Harry trudged up the stairs as if he was wearing cement shoes. He crawled into bed without even bothering to remove his clothing. His head barely grazed the pillow before he fell asleep.  
  
The next morning Harry awoke to find the paper and a pot of coffee waiting by his bedside. He put on his glasses and poured himself a cup. As he unrolled the paper, he was surprised to see a picture of Ginny winking at him. It was an old picture, taken during his last year at Hogwarts. Getting over his initial shock, he began to read.  
  
**The Girl Who Lived**  
  
The Daily Prophet has learned of amazing events at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizarding yesterday afternoon. Students were surprised when a young woman reportedly fell through the ceiling of the Great Hall. Victoria Bradley, a third year Ravenclaw recalls, "She crashed right into the mashed potatoes."  
  
The woman was later identified as Ginevra Weasley, daughter of high-ranking ministry official, Arthur Weasley. Miss Weasley had been previously believed dead after the Battle for Hogwarts. Events leading up to Miss Weasley's miraculous return remain sketchy, but sources inside the school say that members of the school staff and the Weasley family were seen performing a strange charm in a school hallway. Rumor has it that Harry Potter, the-boy-who-lived and champion of our times, was also present during the charm and might have been vital to its success in returning Miss Weasley to the wizarding world.  
  
Miss Weasley was treated at the Hogwarts' infirmary for minor injuries before being transferred to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Although the Hospital has refused the Daily Prophet's requests for an interview, Hospital officials wish to inform the public that Miss Weasley is in stable health and spending time with her family.  
  
For more information about the-girl-who-lived, turn to page 6 for an interview with former classmate Colin Creevey and to page 14 for an account of Miss Weasley's role in the war.


	6. Just Lost

**Disclaimer:** Only in my wildest dreams do I own Harry Potter. He and his world are the intellectual property of J.K. Rowling.  
  
**Harry Potter and the Lost Library  
  
Chapter 5: Just Lost**  
  
Harry's head was aching by the time he finished dressing. He should have learned after all these years not to read the Daily Prophet. The blockheaded editors at the paper had been quick to label Ginny as The-Girl- Who-Lived. Harry hoped for her sake that the moniker didn't stick. He hated the shallow fame of being The-Boy-That-Lived. He wouldn't have wished it on a dog he didn't like, let alone a friend. When you are the boy-that-lived, people expected things of you as if the act of maintaining a pulse through a difficult situation had given you special insight into the world. Every success you achieved was belittled and every failure was magnified.  
  
Harry made his way to the dining room to find Hermione and Ron already enjoying breakfast. Neither of them looked as if they had a restful night. "Good morning," Hermione chimed as Harry sat down. Ron only grunted as he shoveled scrambled eggs into his mouth.  
  
"Morning," Harry said as he reached for a platter of sausages. "Did you two read the paper this morning?"  
  
"The Prophet?" Hermione asked because she subscribed to a number of both Muggle and wizarding papers.  
  
"Yeah," Harry replied.  
  
"The-Girl-Who-Lived, honestly," snorted Ron after taking a swig of coffee, "It makes you and Ginny sound like bloody bookends."  
  
"Ron," Hermione admonished. "It's just a silly story. Merlin knows they've been desperate for news since the war ended."  
  
"They've smelt blood in the water," Harry predicted, "They'll never let her have a moment's peace now."  
  
Hermione paused and her brow wrinkled with concern. "You really think so?"  
  
"I know so," Harry replied, "I've been there."  
  
The next few minutes passed in silence as each contemplated their thoughts. Then Ron said hesitantly, "Did Ginny seem all right to you? I thought she was a bit stand-offish."  
  
"She did seem traumatized by the whole experience," Hermione agreed, "but really, what can you expect?"  
  
"I wonder where she was," Harry said, "Why she didn't try to contact us years ago?"  
  
"I think she was being held prisoner," Ron said quietly. He pushed his plate away with a grimace. "Maybe she was in Azkaban." The tone of Ron's voice revealed his terror at the very thought. Azkaban had not changed with the times. After the war, the ministry regained control of the Dementors. As they couldn't be killed, the Minister of Magic had allowed them to return to their post as prison guards. Although some of the wizarding public had been outraged by this development, a majority felt that the new influx of Death Eaters and war criminals deserved their monstrous guards.  
  
"No, that's not possible," Hermione said. "The combined charms Dumbledore and I cast on her could only result in Ginny being moved to a safe place. I doubt that Dumbledore would consider Azkaban safe. I certainly don't."  
  
"Maybe she was in a vault in Gringotts," Ron ventured.  
  
"I doubt she could survive ten years in there," Hermione returned. "I'd lay odds that she was being kept in some other magically fortified place."  
  
"The Ministry of Magic," Ron suggested, "Maybe she was behind that door in the Department of Mysteries. You remember, the one we couldn't open, the one Dumbledore said contained the greatest power known on earth."  
  
"Dumbledore, that's right," Harry exclaimed as he remembered, "Yesterday when he and I stepped out of Ginny's room for a second, Dumbledore seemed to have an idea where she might have been."  
  
"What did he say?" Hermione demanded. Hermione's firm belief that Dumbledore always had the correct answer had only been strengthened since she began teaching at Hogwarts.  
  
"He said that if his suspicions were right, then Ginny would have a tough time recovering."  
  
"What's that suppose to mean?" Ron demanded.  
  
Harry shrugged. "He also said that the spell Ginny used in the hospital wing was an ancient Aztec one."  
  
Ron paused with a fork full of eggs half way to his mouth and a confused expression on his face. Hermione, on the other hand, seemed to be instantly intrigued by the idea. "Aztec you say?" she asked.  
  
"That's what he said," Harry replied. "Dumbledore said it was for warding off demons and evil spirits."  
  
"That would explain why it didn't effect us," Hermione said thoughtfully. "If I remember correctly, there was a book in the Hogwarts' library about native magic. Perhaps I should go look it up."  
  
"Wait a second," Ron interrupted, "you're not going to run off to Hogwarts for a book. Dumbledore gave you some time off. Besides, we're going back to see Ginny after breakfast."  
  
"It won't take me that long get to the book and meet you at St. Mungo's," Hermione muttered. "Besides, it might be helpful in determining where Ginny was."  
  
"Why don't we just ask her?" Ron demanded.  
  
Hermione released a long sigh and rolled her eyes. "I don't think it's that easy Ron. I don't think we should be pushing her right now."  
  
"I agree," Harry added thinking back to the shaky figure in a hospital bed.  
  
Ron sighed and finally nodded in agreement. "No running off to Hogwarts though," he stated, "I need you with me today."  
  
"It will only take a minute," Hermione argued, "I'm sure I can find the book right away."  
  
"Yes you will," Ron agreed, "and you'll read it right away because you can't wait. Then, you'll have to look up 20 other references. By the time you've done that, there will be a hundred other things that you will need to look up."  
  
Hermione had a stunned and hurt expression on her face. Harry might have been sympathetic had he not seen Hermione do exactly what Ron described a hundred or so times. She was extremely tenacious when it came to solving mysteries. But, Harry also knew that Hermione's intentions were the highest. Researching in the library was her way to help Ginny and Ron. "Hermione," he said, "You go with Ron, and I'll go to Hogwarts for the book you need."  
  
Hermione sighed and smiled. "Thanks Harry," she whispered.  
  
"Yeah," Ron murmured grasping his wife's hand, "Thanks."  
  
Five hours later, Harry left the library of Hogwarts carrying a massive book entitled, "Magic of the Native Peoples of the New World." The search for Hermione's book had taken much longer than anticipated. Ginny's little spell in the hospital wing had knocked every book off the library shelves before toppling over the bookcases. One angry glance from Madam Pince had quelled the request on his tongue. He knew he should be at St. Mungo's, but Harry reluctantly helped restore order to the school library. As a reward, Madam Pince would allow him to take the book off the school grounds.  
  
Harry apparated to St. Mungo's and found Hermione and Ron sitting in the same waiting room as yesterday. "What took so long?" Hermione asked as he passed the massive volume he was carrying to her.  
  
Harry shrugged. "The library was in the same shape as the hospital wing."  
  
"Oh no," cried Hermione, "I hope none of the books were damaged."  
  
Ron released a small snort that said he wasn't too concerned with the idea.  
  
"Where are the rest of the Weasleys?" Harry asked.  
  
"Dad took Mum home so she could rest," Ron declared. "He didn't think she got any sleep last night. Fred and George were here earlier, but they needed to take care of some business at their shop. Bill and Charlie are upstairs in the tearoom."  
  
"How's Ginny?" Harry inquired while stretching out in a chair beside Ron.  
  
"The Healers are examining her now," Ron answered, "Hermione thinks that she'll be released today."  
  
"She's better then?" Harry asked.  
  
Hermione and Ron traded uncomfortable glances. "She's awake and alert, but she's been pretty unresponsive," Hermione explained.  
  
"We've been talking at her all morning," Ron added, "But she hasn't said a word."  
  
"She did ask me when the baby was due," Hermione reminded him gently.  
  
"Yeah," Ron whispered vacantly, "She does seem to be interested in that."  
  
"Fleur and Bill were thinking of bringing Will and Arty by later," Hermione said. "We thought maybe that would stimulate her."  
  
Harry nodded thoughtfully. The second generation of Weasley boys was extremely stimulating in a controlled chaos sort of way. "How are you two holding up?" he asked.  
  
"We're fine," Ron answered while reaching for Hermione's hand. The couple exchanged comforting smiles before turning back towards Harry. "Maybe you could talk to her. Ginny used to fancy you, didn't she?"  
  
Harry's ears turned red, and he shifted awkwardly in his chair. "Honestly Ron," Hermione admonished, "that was years ago!"  
  
"I'm not asking him to marry her," Ron snapped. "I just thought that maybe she'd open up to him."  
  
"It's worth a try," Harry said. "But if she hasn't responded to her family, I doubt she'll want to talk with me."  
  
The trio lapsed into silence. Hermione opened her book and began thumbing through the pages. Ron stretched out his feet and closed his eyes to nap. Harry followed Ron's lead.  
  
Later, Harry and Ron were both jolted awake as Hermione snapped her book closed. Seeing his wife's frustrated expression, Ron asked, "What is it?"  
  
"A dead end," she muttered. "According to the authors of this book, there are no known texts of Aztec spells or charms."  
  
"Maybe Dumbledore was confused," Harry suggested.  
  
"I suppose he could have meant the Mayans or Incans," Hermione granted, "but it's unlike Dumbledore to get his facts confused."  
  
"Maybe he starting to lose it," Ron suggested, "After all, he's like two- hundred years old."  
  
"Only one hundred and sixty-eight Mr. Weasley," an amused voice interrupted, "And I assure you that I haven't lost anything yet."  
  
Ron turned a deep shade of red. "Sorry Professor," he mumbled, "I didn't see you there."  
  
"It's quite all right, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore chuckled. "The school governors question my sanity on almost a daily basis."  
  
"I'm surprised to see you here Professor," Hermione commented.  
  
"I just stopped by to have a quick chat with your sister-in-law, Professor Weasley," Dumbledore explained.  
  
"She's being examined by the healers," Ron responded.  
  
"I ran into Healer Pye in the corridor," Dumbledore said, "He's finished his examination."  
  
"Oh," Hermione murmured. "We'll go sit with her than."  
  
Ron helped Hermione to stand and led her out of the waiting room. Harry followed quietly, politely carrying Hermione's book. Once in the hallway, Harry was surprised to see Dumbledore turn in the opposite direction of Ginny's room. "Professor," Harry called out, "Don't you want to speak with Ginny?"  
  
"I already have," Dumbledore replied. With no further explanation, he disappeared into the stair well. Hermione, Ron, and Harry swapped astonished expressions.  
  
"What was that all about?" Ron wondered.  
  
"I don't know," Hermione answered absently. Her brow constricted thoughtfully as she turned back towards Ginny's room.  
  
When they entered her room, Ginny was standing by one of the windows. She turned towards them briefly but made no acknowledgement of their presence before turning back to gaze outside. Harry couldn't help but notice how pale the harsh hospital lights made Ginny appear and how fragile she seemed in her white night gown.  
  
"Ginny," Ron whispered. "Look whose come to see you."  
  
"Hello Ginny," Harry said softly.  
  
Ginny stayed silent.  
  
"Why don't we all sit down for a bit?" Hermione suggested. She went over to where Ginny was standing and gently drew her away from the window. Hermione led her back towards the hospital bed and guided Ginny to sit. As soon as Hermione had taken a seat beside her, Ginny stood back up and walked silently over to the window again.  
  
Ron and Hermione shared distressed looks. "What did you and Dumbledore talk about?" Ron asked.  
  
Ginny didn't answer. Ron released a frustrated sniff.  
  
"Did the healers tell you anything?" Hermione tried softly.  
  
Again, Ginny didn't answer.  
  
"How are you feeling?" Harry asked hesitantly.  
  
Ginny remained stone silent, but she shifted slightly to change her perspective on the outside world.  
  
Ron sent Harry a look that said, "See what I mean."  
  
Harry nodded thoughtfully. He went to go gaze out the window with Ginny. Maybe something was going on outside that was distracting her from the conversation. The street below was teeming with Muggles rushing from shop to shop, but there was nothing that appeared out of the ordinary.  
  
"Where did you get that book?" Ginny demanded.  
  
Harry, Hermione, and Ron all jumped at her abrupt question. Harry turned to see Ginny staring intently at the volume he had carelessly tucked under his arm. "I... I got it from the library," he stuttered.  
  
"The librarian let you take it?" Ginny inquired harshly. With jerky motions, she reached out to seize the volume. Harry surrendered the book even though he was afraid that it was too heavy for Ginny. She hugged the massive book to her with ease.  
  
"It's all right," Harry reassured her softly. "Madam Pince knows I have it."  
  
"Madam Pince?" Ginny retorted.  
  
"The Hogwarts librarian," Harry explained.  
  
"Ohh," Ginny sighed before turning back to the window. She continued to clutch the book like a comforting childhood toy.  
  
Harry stumbled back to a shocked Hermione and Ron. The three fell into a slightly stunned silence.  
  
"Ahh," a cheerful voice called, "Glad to see you up and about Miss Weasley with your visitors." The trio turned to see Augustus Pye enter the room. Ginny ignored him completely. "Yes...well...I have good news for you."  
  
"What is it?" Ron asked.  
  
"I'm going to release your sister today," the healer replied with a smile.  
  
"Oh Ron, that's wonderful," Hermione exclaimed leaping to embrace her husband.  
  
"Are you sure she's all right?" Ron inquired.  
  
"You're sister has recovered nicely from her fall yesterday, and we've been unable to detect any hint of spell damage in her system." Seeing Ron's disbelieving glance over towards the window, the healer clarified, "You're sister has some minor bruising and is a little undernourished, but otherwise, she's in good physical health. I'm afraid that whatever is affecting her is purely psychological."  
  
"She's gone nutters," Ron snorted angrily. Harry cast a worried look in Ginny's direction, but she showed no sign that she was listening to their conversation.  
  
"I don't know if I'd go that far Mr. Weasley, but your sister was clearly negatively affected by her experience. She may be suffering from posttraumatic stress disorder. It's a condition that Muggle doctor's have been recognizing for years," Pye explained.  
  
"She's not a Muggle," snapped Ron.  
  
"Ron," Hermione sighed patiently. "Posttraumatic stress disorder isn't a Muggle syndrome, it's a human syndrome."  
  
"It sound's a bit dodgy to me," Ron muttered. "How do we cure this post- disorder trauma thing?"  
  
"There is no cure, Muggle or wizard. What she needs is time, caring, and quiet," Pye replied. Ron grumbled something under his breath but didn't argue. "I'll let you make arrangements for Miss Weasley's release, while I start the necessary paper work," he said before disappearing.  
  
"I suppose that Floogle Castle is the best place for her?" Hermione wondered aloud.  
  
"Mum and Dad won't like that," Ron muttered.  
  
"She can't very well live in their flat," Hermione reasoned. "Besides, the city is way too loud and congested."  
  
"You're right," Ron agreed. "That okay with you Harry?"  
  
"Of course," Harry answered.  
  
"I'll go back to the castle and tell Winky and Dobby to prepare a room for Ginny," Hermione declared. "I can also grab some clothes for Ginny to wear. I hope they burned that old Hogwarts uniform she was wearing."  
  
"I'll go tell the rest of the family about Ginny's release and see what they want to do," Ron muttered resignedly. "Harry could you stay here with Ginny?"  
  
"If you're sure?" Harry replied.  
  
Ron nodded. After trying to say goodbyes to an unresponsive Ginny, Ron and Hermione left. The silence quickly magnified in their absence.  
  
Harry shifted his weight from his left foot to his right foot and then back again. He searched his mind for something to say, but was distracted by the floor tiles which he began to count. Finally, he sat down slowly on Ginny's bed, but jumped up quickly when the springs released a high-pitched creak.  
  
"Annoying isn't it?" Ginny had moved from her spot by the window and was standing directly in front of Harry. Hermione's book was still clutched tight to her chest. "Every time I so much as breathed last night, it made the same sound."  
  
Harry was astounded. Ginny appeared to be making small talk, and she had moved so quietly and quickly across the room that he hadn't noticed. Completely dumbstruck, Harry muttered the first thing that came to his mind, "My bed at home doesn't creak at all."  
  
The corners of Ginny's lips twitched.  
  
"I mean," Harry continued quickly, "Not that you care whether my bed is creaky or not. I was just trying to say that it must have been hard for you to sleep." He felt his cheeks growing hot. "I'm not making any sense, am I?"  
  
"No," Ginny answered, "Not really."  
  
Harry shook his head and started again. "How are you doing?"  
  
"I have posttraumatic stress," she answered.  
  
"You heard what the healer said?" Harry inquired slowly.  
  
"I was in the room at the time," Ginny reminded.  
  
"Sorry," Harry muttered quickly, "We shouldn't have talked like you weren't here."  
  
"I'm not sure I am," she murmured.  
  
"What happened to you?" Harry demanded softly.  
  
"I don't know," Ginny replied. Her eyes shifted back and forth before zeroing in on the floor.  
  
With some unease, Harry realized that she was lying to him. A little more sharply he asked, "Where were you?"  
  
Ginny raised her eyes defiantly towards him. Harry noticed little sparks of gold in her coffee-colored eyes. She was either angry or panicking. "Lost," she uttered, "I was just lost." 


	7. Homeward Bound

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and his universe are the intellectually property of J.K. Rowling. I just like to mess with them.  
  
**A/N:** If you're wondering why it has taken so long for me to update, the answer is simple. My computer broke. I've had to go several rounds with the peeps from the manufacturer and it looks like things are finally resolved.  
  
**Harry Potter and the Lost Library  
  
Chapter 6: Homeward Bound  
**  
Harry was released from Ginny's room when Mrs. Weasley and Hermione appeared to prepare Ginny for the trip to Floogle Castle. He went in search of Ron and found him sitting quietly in the visitor's tearoom. Harry purchased a cup of tea and some biscuits before joining Ron at his table.  
  
"How'd it go?" Ron asked before reaching out to grab a biscuit.  
  
"It didn't really," Harry sighed. He took a sip of tea that he instantly regretted. The liquid's temperature was just shy of nuclear. He inhale quickly and took the time to mourn the loss of his taste buds before continuing. "We had sort of a strange conversation about bed springs."  
  
Ron's eyebrows shot up.  
  
"Don't ask," Harry sighed, "It was all rather embarrassing. I tried to ask her where she'd been, but she locked up tighter than a vault at Gringott's."  
  
Ron paused thoughtfully. "Hermione thinks that if we figure out where Ginny was trapped, we can help her get better."  
  
"What do you think?" Harry asked while stirring his tea to cool it down.  
  
"You remember that time I ordered a Muggle bi-circle for Dad's birthday," Ron said.  
  
"Bicycle," Harry corrected.  
  
"And when it arrived, it was in a million pieces," Ron continued.  
  
"Yeah," Harry remembered, "You and I tried to put it together, but the instructions were in French. Fleur and Hermione ended up assembling it."  
  
"That's exactly how I feel right now with Ginny." As Ron paused to massage his temple, Harry thought he looked much older than his twenty-seven years.  
  
"It'll be alright mate," Harry said with a cheeriness he didn't quite feel. "Some rest and relaxation in the country, and Ginny will be fine."  
  
Ron snorted, "That's what I said to Mum and Dad when I told them about taking to Ginny to Floogle Castle, and I didn't believe it either."  
  
"They weren't too thrilled with our plan, huh?" Harry asked. He was eager to change the subject.  
  
"At first, Mum wasn't too happy, but Dad and I were able to convince her it was the best thing for Ginny. Unfortunately, we'll probably have the whole family descending on the castle now," Ron said.  
  
"I sort of expected as much," Harry murmured.  
  
Harry and Ron fell into a companionable silence. Both were too exhausted, confused, and thought burdened to manage a conversation. They remained like that until George appeared to draw them back downstairs.  
  
They returned to Ginny's room to find it bubbling with activity. Bill and Fleur had arrived with their sons, Will and Arty. The two little boys had inherited their mother's angelic eyes, their father's red hair, and their precocious nature from their twin uncles. Will was currently trying to squirm away from underneath his father's firm hand while Arty had sidled his way next to Ginny. Harry was slightly alarmed to see that the youngest Weasley was in the process of interrogating his new aunt.  
  
"Dad said that you were his Sis. Does that make you my Aunt?" the boy demanded.  
  
Ginny was staring the little boy sitting next to her with wide-eyed amazement. She responded by merely nodding her head.  
  
"Then how come I never met you before? Were you captured by garden gnomes and held prisoner in their underground dungeon. Will says that's what happens when you turn your back on the rose bushes. Will even showed me the tracks in the mud from when the gnomes dragged our older brother Eddy away. Mum says that I never had an older brother named Eddy, but Will said that Mum and Dad don't talk about Eddy anymore because they liked him more than me. Sometimes I wish Eddy was still around and that the gnomes had dragged Will away instead. Did you see Eddy in the gnome dungeon?" Arty paused to take a deep breath. He climbed on to Ginny's lap and began playing with her braid. "You have red hair like me. Mum says it's the Weasley curse, but Will told me what the real Weasley curse is. He said that the youngest Weasley sprouts wings out of their backs. I told him that was rubbish because Uncle Ron doesn't have wings, but then he said that Uncle Ron hides them under his jumper."  
  
"Arthur," the sharp voice of Mrs. Weasley cut through the air. She had drawn herself away from the adults to reproach her young grandson. "Stop pestering your Aunt."  
  
"Sorry Gran," Arty said while quickly scrambling off Ginny's lap.  
  
"Don't pay any attention to him dear," Mrs. Weasley said to Ginny while softly smoothing her daughter's hair. "He and his brother have very active imaginations."  
  
"Dear," Mr. Weasley appeared at the door, "Healer Pye says that everything is taken care of, and Ginny is free to go."  
  
"Wonderful," Ron said while helping Ginny to stand. "I never cared for St. Mungo's."  
  
Harry noticed that Ginny was a bit wobbly on her feet. He automatically stepped forward and took her arm. The clothes she was wearing must have belonged to Hermione because the skirt was several inches too short and the jumper was loose on her. Still, she looked loads better in Hermione's ill- fitting clothes than that worn Hogwarts uniform she had been wearing previously.  
  
Harry escorted Ginny out of her room. He couldn't help but notice that the nurses, healers, and visitors were watching the Weasley family's progress a little too closely as they passed. Once, he deliberately stepped close to Ginny to block a particularly curious witch's stare. Despite the attention they were attracting, the party made it to St. Mungo's lobby without incident.  
  
The family approached a row of rather large fireplaces that lined a short stretch of wall. Mr. Weasley ambled forward and grabbed what appeared to be a chipped bedpan full of complimentary floo powder. He awkwardly held it out to Ginny. "Floogle Castle is the name of our destination," he said, "Make sure you pronounce it clearly."  
  
Ginny stared blankly at her father and the bedpan. They stood motionless until Mrs. Weasley said, "William. Arthur. Why don't you show your aunt how it's done?"  
  
Will and Arty rushed forward and each took a handful of powder from their grandfather. They ran over to side-by-side fireplaces and tossed the powder inside. When the flames turned green, they stepped in side and yelled, "Floogle Castle." Harry felt Ginny jump when her nephews disappeared, and she clutched his arm tightly.  
  
"Go ahead dear," Mrs. Weasley coached gently.  
  
Ginny remained frozen. The seconds ticked passed uncomfortably.  
  
"Ron," Mrs. Weasley said, "Help your sister."  
  
Ron quickly stepped forward. He grabbed a handful of floo powder and pulled Ginny to stand in front of one of the fireplaces. He tossed the powder into the flames, and when it turned green, he tried to usher Ginny into the hearth. Ginny jerked away from her brother as her eyes darted wildly around. The fire slowly returned to its normal shade of orange. Ron looked helplessly at the rest of her family.  
  
Although her family offered her varied assurances of her safety, Ginny refused to step into any of the fireplaces. Finally they relented with a resigned sigh and drew off to one side to allow the queue of witches and wizards that had materialized behind them to use the fireplaces.  
  
"Fleur and I better get to Floogle Castle," Bill said quietly, "or the boys will reduce it to ruins." They soon disapparated from the lobby and left rest of their family to determine a solution.  
  
"I guess we could flag down the Knight Bus," Ron suggested.  
  
"No," Hermione said, turning slightly green, "A person can barely stomach that contraption when they're well, let alone after getting out of the hospital."  
  
"Well, she can't apparate," George said.  
  
"She's never been certified," Fred added.  
  
"Well just have to take the Muggle train," Mrs. Weasley said with a resigned sigh.  
  
Harry and Hermione exchanged panicked looks. The Weasley Family didn't mix well with the Muggle population. "Maybe we shouldn't all go," Hermione suggested quickly, "We don't want to cause a spectacle."  
  
Harry could see the reluctance dance on each of the Weasley's faces, but none of them were particularly excited about wasting time on inefficient Muggle travel. Hermione strengthened her statement by gently reminding her in-laws of their history of causing havoc among Muggles and suggesting that their time would be better spent preparing Floogle Castle.  
  
"Harry and I can escort Ginny to Floogle Castle, "Hermione reasoned. "We can be there in a few hours."  
  
Ron perked up at his wife's statement. "Mione," he said, "You're pregnant."  
  
Hermione shot Ron a quelling look. "Yes Ron," she groaned, "Pregnant not handicapped."  
  
Harry decided to put this fire out before it got out of control. "I can take Ginny home."  
  
Hermione turned her glare onto Harry. "I'm perfectly fit to travel."  
  
"Yes," Harry sighed, "But there is no reason why you need to subject yourself to a two hour train ride."  
  
"This is ridiculous," Mrs. Weasley said cutting off any further discussion. "Harry would you please take Ginny to Floogle Castle."  
  
"Absolutely," Harry replied.  
  
After the Weasley's had apparated, Harry conjured coats for himself and Ginny. He ignored the stares of St. Mungo's employees and visitors as he unceremoniously led Ginny towards the street entrance. A few minutes later, Harry and Ginny immerged from the front window of Purge and Dowse Ltd.  
  
It was mid-week and the Muggle shopping district surrounding St. Mungo's wasn't overly hectic. Still, Harry felt Ginny recoil from the rush of noise from the street. "It's okay," he whispered stepping closer and turning down the street.  
  
Almost on cue, the gray London sky began to drizzle. Harry reached inside his jacket to magically produce an umbrella, but a hand stayed his arm. "It's all right," Ginny said softly, "I like the rain."  
  
Harry tried to hide his surprise as he looked over at Ginny. Her lips were curved up in the barest hint of a smile, and she deeply inhaled the scent of the city. Reflexively, he did the same. The air smelled of cars, rain, and perfume from a nearby shop. "All right," he agreed while turning up his collar. "I can take it if you can."  
  
They walked side by side past the Muggle shops. Harry observed Ginny closely. She seemed interested in the shop displays and the city in general, but she jumped slightly whenever a Muggle would emerge suddenly from a shop or whiz by in a car. Once a group of young people dressed in the more outlandish end of modern fashion passed by on the pavement, and Ginny ducked behind Harry. "Are you all right?" Harry asked.  
  
Ginny re-emerged from behind him. Her cheeks were stained red as she uttered, "Everything has changed."  
  
"A lot can happen in ten years," Harry agreed.  
  
"It felt more like a hundred," Ginny murmured. She shivered violently.  
  
Harry had learned from his earlier mistake and didn't press Ginny on her statement. He did, however, hail a taxi to take them to King's Cross Station.  
  
Almost immediately after giving directions to the driver, Harry regretted his decision on the taxi. The inside of the vehicle smelled strongly of fried fish, and the cabby seemed determined to reach the train station in world record time. Harry had a tough time keeping his expression calm and comforting.  
  
The driver didn't fail to notice his fare's reactions. He caught Harry's eye in the mirror, "Pardon me Guv'nor, but is your missus all right?"  
  
Harry's eyes darted quickly over to Ginny. Her pale face had become even paler as she clutched the door for dear life. "She just got out of the hospital," he explained.  
  
"Sorry to hear that Guv," the cabby replied. "Nothing serious I hope."  
  
"I was hit by a taxi on my way to church," Ginny remarked.  
  
The jerking motion of the taxi hid Harry's snort of laughter as the cabby practically stood on the break. He and Ginny shared a secret smile, and the rest of their cab ride proceeded in an extremely reasonable pace.  
  
When they arrived at the station, Harry opened the door for Ginny. He kept an eye on her as he paid the driver.  
  
"Pardon me for saying so Guv," the driver said, "But isn't it a bit daft to be making her ride in a taxi after her accident."  
  
Harry had to curtail his urge to throttle the cabby. "Best to get back on the horse," he muttered.  
  
"What was he on about?" Ginny asked Harry as he held the door to the station for her.  
  
"He was berating me for being an insensitive husband," he chuckled. "Too soon after the accident, you see."  
  
Harry purchased two tickets to York. They had twenty minutes until their train departed from the platform, so Harry and Ginny wandered about the various shops. They seemed to be naturally drawn to Platforms Nine and Ten.  
  
Ginny ran her fingers slowly over the brick of the barrier between Platforms Nine and Ten. "I wonder if the Hogwart's Express is sitting at the station on the other side." She carefully leaned against the barrier, but it remained firm.  
  
"I think it only works when there is a scheduled departure," Harry explained, but he couldn't stop his fingers from fondly tracing the outlines of the brick.  
  
To the Muggle on-lookers, it was curious to see two young people so enthralled with a pillar. "Maybe they're building inspectors," one woman commented to her spouse.  
  
"More likely," her husband grumbled, "They're up to no good."  
  
Harry and Ginny were oblivious to the Muggle scrutiny. "This is where we first met, do you remember?" Ginny asked.  
  
"How could I forget," Harry replied. "I was so nervous about getting onto Platform Nine and Three-quarters."  
  
"I wanted so badly to go with Ron to Hogwarts," Ginny reminisced. "I cried when the train left."  
  
"I know," Harry said, "I was watching. I'd never seen a whole family of wizards before. I thought that you were all terribly fascinating."  
  
Ginny giggled at the idea. "I remember that I wanted to get onto the train just to see you, and Mum told me that we weren't at a zoo."  
  
Harry was struck at that moment by how natural talking to Ginny felt. It was a strange flash of normalcy in what had been a chaotic past couple of days. Harry would have liked to remain by the barrier chatting with Ginny over old familiar memories of more innocent times, but the announcement that their train was now boarding drew them away from the entrance to Platform 9 ¾.  
  
Ginny returned to her frightened and nervous behavior during the noise and confusion of boarding the train, but once they were settled into their compartment and the train was speeding away from London, she seemed to calm down. Ginny appeared engrossed with the scenery racing by the window, and eventually the sway of the train lulled her to sleep.  
  
Harry remained vigilantly by her side. He didn't want to risk having her wake up to find him not there. She would be terrified. He also wanted to ensure that other passengers did not interrupt her rest. As it turned out, Ginny slept peacefully all the way into York, and Harry had to gently shake her awake.  
  
Harry and Ginny departed from the railway station and took a bus out into the countryside. They were dropped off by a small Muggle village, and began the last leg of their journey on foot.  
  
The rain had departed from this region of the country, and the setting sun was reflected in the puddles on the country road. Ginny had kept quietly to herself since leaving London, so Harry was surprised when she asked, "Where are we going?"  
  
"Floogle Castle," Harry replied, "It's not very far from here."  
  
They walked on for a bit. Harry stuffed his hands into his pockets and allowed his gaze to follow the silhouette of a stonewall that lined the road. Ginny's voice broke into his private revelry again, "Why can't I go to the Burrow?"  
  
Harry swung his eyes back to Ginny. She was walking with her head slightly down and her eyes were fixed blankly on the ground. The colors of the sunset danced and blazed in her hair. "The Burrow is gone," he explained. A grimace flashed across the Ginny's face, and a fresh wave of anger filled Harry. He sent a rock flying off the road with a swift kick. "It was destroyed in a retaliation attack about a year after Lord Voldemort was defeated." Harry paused to send another rock flying over the stonewall with his foot. "We never caught the person responsible."  
  
"Malfoy," Ginny hissed. She turned her face away from Harry, but he caught a glimpse of a tear trickle down her cheek.  
  
"That's what Ron thinks too," Harry agreed. "There 's no proof of course, but it's just the sort of rotten thing he'd do."  
  
They continued along in silence accompanied by the slight crunching of their feet on the gravel. Neither looked at the other, but they both had the same thoughts.  
  
"What is this castle place?" Ginny asked after a bit.  
  
"Floogle Castle is my home," Harry said proudly. "Ron and Hermione live there with me, and it's become sort of a second home for the rest of your family."  
  
Ginny's voice was small and broken when she asked, "Can I stay there?"  
  
"Yes, of course," Harry said quickly, "Floogle Castle is your home for as long as you like."  
  
"Thank you Harry," Ginny whispered softly.  
  
Harry halted abruptly and turned towards Ginny. She continued on a few steps before turning slightly to meet his gaze. "I'm sorry Ginny," Harry blurted. "I'm sorry that you've lost so much of your life, and I'm sorry that the world you knew is gone."  
  
Ginny gave a slight nod and turned back down the road. Harry quickly fell back in step with her. "It's all right, Harry," Ginny said. She took a deep breath and smiled. "I'll be okay." 


	8. Beware the ThreeHeaded Monkey

**Disclaimer:** So sue me. You can have my two dollars.  
  
**A/N:** This chapter finally jumped to life. It's a little bit of fresh air to keep the story from being too serious.  
  
**Harry Potter and the Lost Library**  
  
**Chapter 7:** Beware the Three-Headed Monkey  
  
Ginny was both overwhelmed and confused by her first glimpse of Floogle Castle. The confusion came from the castle's strange architecture and the sense of being overwhelmed was a reaction to the sheer size of the building. "You live here?" she asked in awe.  
  
Harry felt a twinge of embarrassment. "The castle is really not that big," he murmured. "It's just trying to puff itself up to impress you."  
  
"It can do that?" Ginny asked sharply.  
  
"Floogle Castle is a little like Hogwarts," Harry replied. "It has a mind of it's own."  
  
As they crossed the drawbridge that spanned the castle moat, Harry groaned at the kelpies who were swimming around in a synchronized pattern. He had spent two whole summers carefully re-engineering the ditches that fed and drained the moat only to end up creating a world-class kelpie habitat. Ginny paused to watch the water demons in their carefully rehearsed dance. Harry was afraid that she might be falling under their spell, but she turned sharply towards him. The kelpies flared their nostrils in response. "You have kelpies in your moat," she commented.  
  
"You noticed," Harry said dryly. He kicked a rock off the bridge towards one of the demons. It reared up slightly before bolting out of sight around the castle. The rest of the herd followed suit.  
  
"You should try adding some butterbeer to the water," Ginny suggest. "Kelpies can't stand the stuff."  
  
"What!" Harry blurted.  
  
"I know, quite shocking" Ginny sighed, "Who doesn't like a good butterbeer?" With her rhetorical question still hanging in the air, Ginny glided through the castle gates and into the inner courtyard.  
  
The Weasleys had been anxiously awaiting their arrival. Harry was pushed aside as family engulfed Ginny. Though he was glad to be home and away from Muggles, Harry couldn't help feeling slightly saddened that their journey had come to end. The easy companionship Ginny and he shared had been a relaxing comfort.  
  
Mrs. Weasley had truly out done herself. In the few hours it had taken Harry and Ginny to travel from London, she had thrown together a banquet that would rival any feast at Hogwarts. The dinning hall of Floogle Castle had been festooned with a rainbow of paper streamers, and the twins had specially enchanted some of their fireworks so that they danced merrily and harmlessly over the party's heads.  
  
Harry found himself watching and gauging Ginny's reactions throughout the night's festivities. She didn't eat enough to satisfy her mother, but Mrs. Weasley wisely didn't push. It was clear that Ginny was not used to have such a savory selection for dinner. She seemed also a little overwhelmed by her family's exuberance, but to her credit, she remained calm and engaged.  
  
The only time Ginny gave the impression of being distressed was when Dobby suddenly appeared. As he ambled in her direction, Ginny sunk back in her chair and gripped the edge of her seat until her knuckles were white. Harry was unconsciously reminded of all the times that his Uncle Vernon had drug him away to his cupboard for some superficial crime.  
  
Dobby was obviously put off by Ginny's reaction and looked over at Harry to see whether he should punish himself. Harry shook his head and sent Dobby an encouraging smile. "Dobby brought Miss Weasley a welcome home gift," the elf said hesitantly. He held out a poorly wrapped package towards her. A small battle of wills was fought across Ginny's features, but eventually her common sense won out over her fear and she accepted the present. Dobby's entire countenance lightened as Ginny unwrapped his gift, and his ugly face split into a grin when she held up a vivid pair of socks. One was a red and white stripped knee sock, and the other was a neon green anklet with hot pink hearts on it. "Dobby picked out one," the elf explained, "and Winky picked out the other."  
  
Ginny didn't seem to know exactly how to react and looked around the table. Mrs. Weasley appeared to be praying for patience, and Hermione was smiling in an encouraging manner. Everyone else was trying to desperately hide his or her laughter. Ginny had just joined an illustrious club of miss-matched and uncommonly ugly sock owners. "Thank you," Ginny murmured to the house elf.  
  
With his mission complete, Dobby disappeared in a flash. The room erupted into laughter.  
  
Ginny made it through dessert before signs of fatigue started to show. She asked politely to be excused, and Hermione had shown her to her room. As soon as the dinning hall door shut behind the two women, the mood plummeted. The smiles faded and were replaced by the expressions that showed the weariness the strain of the past days had wrought. One by one the Weasleys retreated to their own beds.  
  
Harry was exhausted as well, but his thoughts were racing much too quickly to allow him to sleep. So, he sat in his library staring absently at a nearly blank piece of parchment on the desk in front of him.  
  
The groan of the library door hinges interrupted his private revelry. Harry looked up to see Ginny slip into the room. She was dressed in an old Chudley Canon's jersey of Ron's. One tall red and white sock reached up her calf towards the bottom of the jersey, and her other sock appeared to be giving off a few watts of pink, heart-shaped light. Harry watched closely as she inhaled deeply and released a sigh of relief. The corners of her mouth curved upward slightly, and she hurried over towards one of the tall bookshelves. Ginny leaned heavily on the shelf and pressed the side of her face against the spines of the books. It was like she was embracing the volumes as old friends.  
  
Harry coughed politely. Ginny whirled quickly to face him. Her face drained of color a second before turning bright red with embarrassment. "I didn't see you there," she uttered.  
  
"Couldn't sleep?" Harry asked. Ginny nodded in response. "Why don't you have a seat?" He gestured to one of the chairs. His lips twitched as he watched her hesitantly cross the room. Dobby's miss-matched presents looked even sillier in motion. "You realize that you don't have to wear them?"  
  
Ginny paused and looked down. "I felt sort of bad for the way I reacted tonight," she shrugged. "I thought that Dobby might realize that I didn't mean it if he saw me wearing his socks. Besides, I don't have any others, and the castle floors are cold."  
  
Harry didn't know why, but the thought that Ginny didn't even own a pair of matching socks bothered him greatly. "You've met Dobby before, haven't you?" he asked. "He was the Malfoy's house elf. He came to work at Hogwarts after the Chamber of Secrets incident." Almost as soon as the words slipped out of his mouth, Harry had to quell the desire to smack himself for his stupidity. Why after all these years did he still forget that he had not been alone during his first visit to the Chamber?  
  
Ginny's expression was unreadable, but Harry thought the light in her eyes dimmed slightly. "Of course," Ginny mumbled while sinking into a chair across the desk from Harry. "I was just surprised to see a house elf. That's all."  
  
Harry realized that Ginny's reaction to the elf had little to do with surprise but wisely changed the subject. "How do you like your bed chamber?"  
  
"It's very nice, thank you," Ginny replied politely. "It reminds me of my room at the Burrow, except it's bigger and the floor shakes less."  
  
Harry laughed. He had forgotten that Ginny's bedroom at the Burrow had been right next to the twins' room. While at Floogle Castle, the twins always stayed in rooms far removed from other guests. Their ability to start small fires and blow up household items at all hours of the night and day didn't make them pleasant neighbors.  
  
"What are you doing?" Ginny asked.  
  
Harry looked down on the scroll in front of him. "I'm writing my memoirs."  
  
Ginny's brow crinkled in disbelief. "Memoirs, as in a noun meaning autobiographical observations and reminiscences," she teased.  
  
"It was Hermione's idea," Harry grumbled.  
  
"It would be," Ginny sighed. "I never took you as a Gilderoy wannabe."  
  
"Good lord, no," Harry spat quickly.  
  
"Can I read them?" Ginny asked craning her neck to see the document in front of him.  
  
"NO!" Harry shouted quickly covering the parchment with his hand. "It's not finished yet."  
  
"Come on," Ginny whined, "Let me read it. I promise I won't laugh."  
  
"No, I...I can't spell," Harry lied desperately.  
  
"LOOK," Ginny shouted suddenly, pointing behind him, "A three-headed monkey."  
  
Like the stupidest person in the world, Harry swung around quickly to see a reflection in the window glass of Ginny lunging across the desk to grab the scroll of parchment. Harry turned back and watched red-faced while Ginny scanned the manuscript. She looked at him with confusion and then scanned the document again. This time, she even flipped the scroll over to see if there was any writing on the back.  
  
"This is it?" she demanded.  
  
Harry sighed heavily and nodded. Ginny released a snort of laughter. "Hey," Harry condemned, "You promised."  
  
Ginny wiped the smile off her face. "How long have you been working on this?" she asked. Her voice trembled from her efforts to quash her laughter.  
  
"Three years," Harry admitted. He grimaced at how incredibly lame that sounded. He had worked three years on a single, three-word sentence. That averaged out to one word a year.  
  
"Wow...that's amazing...progress," Ginny said tightly. Her eyes were now watering from the strain of trying to suppress the giggles.  
  
Harry sighed dejectedly as Ginny covered her mouth and bent over in the chair. Her shoulders shook as peels of laughter burst from her. Finally, Harry could not help but join in and have a good laugh at himself.  
  
Ginny sat up suddenly. Her bright red complexion and tear stained face made Harry laugh even harder. Ginny paused to take a couple deep breaths and fanned herself. When she noticed that she had picked up his pathetic memoirs to use as a fan, she gave in to her mirth once again.  
  
The minutes rolled by merrily as the couple fed off each other's laughter. Finally, they both leaned back in their chairs grinning at each other like a pair of idiots. Harry couldn't remember a time when he had laughed that hard.  
  
"I suppose I could help you with this," Ginny said. Harry chuckled as she leaned forward, grabbed a quill, and wrote something on the parchment. "There," she said, grinning broadly, "I've doubled your memoirs."  
  
Harry took the parchment and read. His stirring sentence "I was born" had its period crossed out and the phase "at Godric's Hollow" added to it. "That's brilliant," he congratulated his new co-author.  
  
"You should also probably add something in there about being extremely gullible and having an aberrant fear of three-headed monkeys," Ginny quipped. Her eyes danced merrily within her otherwise innocent expression.  
  
Harry froze briefly with a stunned expression on his face before launching himself out of his chair. Ginny let out a squeal and raced out of the room. 


	9. Lost Ones

**Disclaimer:** I am a frog. I'm made out of chocolate. J.K. Rowling is a genius. She's not made out of chocolate. She deserves all the credit.

**A/N:** I want to apologize for the long delay in updating. I have been out of town on business. In regards to the question raised by one of my reviewers, Harry and Ginny were not a couple prior to her disappearance.

**Harry Potter and the Lost Library**

**Chapter 8: Lost Ones**

Harry was still smiling when he woke up the next morning. He stretched like a cat before reaching over to his nightstand for his glasses and the morning paper. As the front page came into focus, Harry sat bolt upright.

A Daily Prophet photographer had snapped a picture of Harry and Ginny as they exited St. Mungo's. Inside the photo, a clearly nervous and jumpy Ginny was looking around while a very protective Harry hovered over her. The caption underneath the photo read, "Miss Ginerva Weasley traveled from St. Mungo's in the care of Mr. Harry Potter." Harry was used to being in the media spotlight and was quite adept at spotting photographers. He was surprise that he hadn't noticed the camera waiting outside St. Mungo's. Given his mood that day, the photographer had been lucky to go unnoticed and unscathed. An angry muscle twitched in his jaw as his eyes swung over to read the article.

**The-Girl-Who-Lived Released from St. Mungo's**

Officials at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries have confirmed that Ginerva Weasley, The-Girl-Who-Lived, was released yesterday afternoon into the care of her family. Visitors and staff witnessed Miss Weasley being personally escorted through the hospital by Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived. Erma Pepper, who was at the hospital visiting her brother-in-law, recalled, "It was hard to miss them [the Weasley party]. They were moving down the hallway like a herd and passed right by me. I caught a brief glimpse of The-Girl-Who-Lived. She was arm in arm with that nice young Harry Potter, and he seemed very concerned about her. It was sweet really."

Miss Weasley left St. Mungo's with Mr. Potter, and the two used Muggle transportation to travel to Mr. Potter's home near York. Neither the Weasley family nor Mr. Potter have released any statements about Miss Weasley's return.

The Wizarding community is increasingly concerned as to the nature of the spell used to return Miss Weasley. Sources inside Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizarding report that the school was rocked by a serious earth tremor shortly before Miss Weasley was transported to St. Mungo's. Arnold Miller, a fifth-year Hufflepuff, said, "I was in the library when it happened. All the books fell off the shelves. I ran for my life." Mr. Borgin, proprietor of Borgin & Burkes of Knockturn Alley, says in his expert opinion, "raising people from the dead is very powerful black magic. Not even You-Know-Who messed around with that." Although the Ministry has not yet taken a stance on Miss Weasley's return, some concerned citizens are calling for an official investigation.

Harry couldn't read any more. He crumpled the paper into a ball and threw it into the fireplace. He couldn't believe the audacity of the Daily Prophet. Suggesting that he, or any of the others involved in Ginny's return, had done anything improper was an insult. Yet, the Daily Prophet's tendency to jump to the worst conclusion was not surprising.

Harry dressed and made his way down to breakfast. He found the chairs around his breakfast table mostly occupied. Apparently the Weasleys had risen early this morning. The Weasley children and their spouses sat in age order from Mr. Weasley at the head of the table down to their mother at the other end. Harry noticed that the chairs on either side of Mrs. Weasley were empty, and he slipped into the one next to Ron. "Ginny not up yet?" he asked politely.

"No," Mrs. Weasley sighed happily, "Poor dear. When I checked on her earlier, she was sleeping so soundly I didn't have the heart to wake her."

Harry heaped food onto his plate. The conversation at the table was lively and random like a group of children on Christmas morning. At the slightest sound, all heads would turn expectantly towards the door. The excitement built up as time slowly ticked onward.

When Ginny finally pushed open the door, Mrs. Weasley burst up out of her seat. "Ginny dear," she exclaimed, "There's a seat for you over here."

Ginny crossed the hall while shooting embarrassed smiles at her broadly grinning family. She was dressed in the same borrowed clothes that she had worn the previous day. Her flaming hair was pulled up away from her pale face in a simple braid and appeared to still be damp. As she slowly sank into the chair across from him, Harry caught her eye and sent her a wink. For a split second, a genuine smile crossed her lips before she lowered her eyes to her plate and began filling it with modest portions.

"Ginny dear," Mrs. Weasley started brightly, "Why don't you and I walk into the Muggle village and buy you some personal effects? I think there are some quaint little shops on the main street. When you're feeling better, we can make a proper shopping expedition to London."

"Okay," Ginny replied quietly before turning back to her eggs.

The mood of the room took a turn for the strange. A million questions danced on the edge of the Weasleys' tongues, but they were too mindful of Ginny's fragile feelings to let them fly. Instead they busied themselves with disjointed and meaningless conversations while constantly shooting speculative glances towards Ginny. Bill once leaned so far over the table trying to get a look at his sister that he trailed his shirttail through his tea. Ginny, for her part, continued quietly eating her breakfast.

"Mr. Potter, Sir," a squeaky voice interrupted at his elbow. Harry turned to see Winky staring up at him. "The post has arrived. Dobby and I put it on your desk in the library."

Harry gave Winky a confused glance. He had never insisted on formalities in his castle. Usually, owls were allowed to simply bring the post directly to the dinning hall. "Okay," he said tentatively, "Thank you."

After breakfast, Mrs. Weasley and Ginny headed off to the nearby village. The rest of the Weasleys used the free afternoon to tend to their own affairs. Mr. Weasley and Ron took the opportunity to visit the Ministry of Magic and check in at their respective offices. Bill did the same for Gringotts. Charlie went to visit an old school friend who lived in York, and the twins returned to Hogsmeade to see to their business. Fleur gave in to Arty and Will and allowed them to accompany Fred and George. The house grew calm and quiet in their absence.

Harry retired to his library. As soon as he opened the door, he realized why Winky and Dobby had taken the post there. His desk was buried under a mountain of letters, and as he watched, three more owls swooped in and added their letters to the pile. The latest addition proved too much for the unstable stack of parchment, and a small landslide spilt onto the floor.

"Goodness," Hermione exclaimed from behind him, "We haven't received that much post since you left the Cannons."

"I suppose it's all for Ginny," Harry commented absently.

"I help you go through them," Hermione said, "We can sort out those that are from people she actually knows."

Harry took one look the gigantic stack of post and groaned, but Hermione simply pulled up a chair. He did the same and grabbed a fist full of letters. After a few minutes, he raised his surprise-filled eyes. "I don't understand," he said, "This lot is all addressed to me."

"I found one letter from Colin Creevey, but the rest of this bunch are for you," Hermione added.

The two made quick work of the pile. In the end, they had separated the mountain into three categories. There were a few items that constituted a normal day's post (newspapers, advertisements, and the like) and a modest pile of letters from friends and acquaintances for Ginny, but the vast majority of mail was addressed to Mr. Harry Potter.

"What is all this?" he wondered out loud. As he spoke, two more owls flew through the window and deposited letters in front of him. "This is ridiculous," he muttered. Harry pulled a penknife from his desk drawer and slit open the first letter.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_We have never met, but my son attended Hogwarts with you. His name was Elton Dane, and he was in his third year in Hufflepuff house. Death Eaters killed Elton while he tried to flee to Hogwarts from his Care of Magical Creatures class on the day You-Know-Who attacked Hogwarts._

_Elton was our only child, Mr. Potter, and his death almost destroyed this family. I will not waste your time with our hardships, but know that my wife has never fully recovered from the loss of our son. The return Miss Weasley has given my wife and I reason to hope after all these years. The spell you performed to return her to her family must have truly been miraculous. I'm sure anyone who lost loved ones in the war would agree._

_You are the greatest wizard of this age Mr. Potter. I write to ask you, no beg you, to return our son to us. We would give everything we possess for one more day with Elton. Please help us Mr. Potter._

_Yours Sincerely,_

_Elias Dane_

Harry felt as if he had been kicked square in the chest. He sat in stunned and saddened silence with his eyes fixed blankly on a father's plea.

"What does it say?" Hermione asked. Her concern permeated her voice.

Absently, Harry handed the letter off to Hermione. He watched her expression whiten as she read. Her eyes were wide with horror and tears as she raised them to meet Harry's. "My God," she whispered, slowly lowering the parchment. A horrifying thought entered her mind as her eyes drifted to the huge pile of letters that remained unopened on the desk. "You don't suppose..." she began, but a small sob escaped her throat and cut her off.

"Yeah," Harry replied. Finally, he allowed his gaze to fall upon the unopened letters. He swallowed convulsively. "What should we do?"

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut as she struggled to regain her composure. She massaged the bridge of her nose as she spoke. "I'll need to get in touch with the Daily Prophet. I'll have them write an article explaining the spell we preformed and that we didn't raise Ginny from the dead. Once the public understands that the spell was highly specialized to the circumstances of Ginny's disappearance, hopefully, we can erase any false hope that people might be harboring."

"What should we do about the letters?" Harry asked. Almost on cue, another owl swooped in and dropped a letter onto the desk.

"We'll need to go through them," Hermione said resignedly, "and determine if there are any we can help."

Harry's spirits sank. He knew that in good conscience he could not pitch the letters into the fire, but he sorely wished he could. With a determined sigh, Harry pulled a stack of letters towards him. "What am I looking for?" he asked.

"Basically anything that suggests the person might still be alive," Hermione replied. She also grabbed a heap of letters to read.

The afternoon that followed ranked as one of the worst in Harry's life, and that was saying a great deal. As he read letter after letter, Harry began to recognize a recurring prose. Once the initial introductions were complete, the writers would describe (sometimes graphically and in great detail) the loss of their child, parent, sibling, relative, or friend. They continued on to explain the profound affect the deaths of their nearest and dearest had on their lives. All begged Harry to return their loved ones using the spell that had saved Ginny. Some offered money and property in exchange, while others simple pledged their undying thanks. The tone of the letters varied between dire desperation and hopeful joy. Making the task even more difficult was the fact that Harry knew or recognized almost half of the names that people were requesting he bring back to life. He had even personally witnessed some of the deaths described in the letters. As Harry finished, he leaned back in his chair feeling mentally and physically exhausted.

"What did you find?" Hermione asked in a grim voice.

"These three are the only one's that I thought might have a possibility of the person still being alive," he replied handing them over to Hermione.

She scanned the first letter. "This one sounds like the gentleman just used the war as an opportunity to leave his wife." She flipped to the second. "I've never heard of anyone surviving this curse, but the circumstances described here definitely are strange." She read through the last letter. "I have no idea what happened here." Hermione added Harry's three letters to a small stack of her own. "What about the rest?"

"These are the ones where the person is undeniably deceased," he replied gesturing towards a large mound of letters. Pointing to a bundle of about twenty or so letters, he said, "And these are the ones where the details of the letter are too vague to make any sort of determination."

The two friends sat in a dazed silence. When two more owls swooped into the study with letters, Harry glanced at the clock. "We need to get these letters out of here," he said, "Ginny will be coming back soon, and I don't want her to see them. She's having a tough enough time adjusting as it is without adding a major dose of survivor's guilt."

Hermione shot Harry a surprised and thoughtful glance. "I'll take them up to mine and Ron's suite. I'll send our sympathies and apologies to those we can't help and write to the rest for further information."

"Are you sure?" he asked with concern. "It won't be too much strain on you and the baby?"

"I'll be fine. I'll get Ron to help me," she reassured Harry as she waved her wand to make the letters disappear.

"If you change your mind," Harry said, "let me know."

Hermione nodded and stood to leave. She paused half way across the library floor and turned back towards Harry. "Harry," she whispered, "You do think that Ginny will be all right?" From the expression on her face, this question had clearly plagued her over the past couple of days.

"I do," Harry replied thinking of the time he had spent with Ginny yesterday.

Hermione sent him a relieved smile and left the room.

Harry swiveled his desk chair around so he could gaze out the tall library windows. He watched the tiny figures of Mrs. Weasley and Ginny crossing the courtyard and disappearing into the castle.

His mind drifted over all the friends and relatives he had lost in the war against Voldemort. He could understand peoples' desire to bring their loved ones back to life. If he hadn't been involved with Ginny's return, he probably would have written a letter as well. Still, it was disconcerting to think that at this moment witches and wizards from all over might be burgeoning with fervent and unfounded hope.

A relieved sigh broke into his private thoughts. Harry turned his chair back to watch Ginny stroll into the library. She was now dressed in a pair of gray trousers and a dark blue jumper that suited her much better then the cast offs she had been wearing. "How was your afternoon?" Harry asked.

"Somewhat shy of awful," Ginny murmured while delicately trailing her finger tips over the spines of the books shelved along the wall. "Mum still hasn't figured out Muggle money. It's lucky that I still remembered my Muggle studies."

"You got by okay otherwise?" Harry asked as she drifted to sit across from him in the chair Hermione had vacated just minutes before. As Ginny brought her eyes around to meet his, Harry read a surprising sadness in them. "What's the matter?" he asked automatically.

"On the way back home," Ginny answered softly, "I asked Mum when Percy was coming to visit."

Harry inhaled sharply. "I see," he said. "What did she say?"

"She told me that Percy died in the Battle of Hogwarts, but she was too upset to say how," Ginny murmured. Her eyes filled with tears and she quickly turned her face away.

Harry grimaced slightly at what he felt was his duty. "Percy was fighting in the band of the Death Eaters that attacked the Herbology class. When the reinforcements arrived from Hogsmeade, he and his cohorts engaged them. He used several Unforgivable Curses. The eyewitness accounts are a little sketchy, but it is believed that he was struck down by one of the Aurors when they arrived. He and the rest of the fallen Death Eaters were buried in the Forbidden Forest." Harry had explained the events as quickly and as somberly as he could. The twins really should have been the ones to tell her. They, after all, had witnessed Percy's death, but Harry knew that it had been both a painful and horrifying experience for George and Fred.

Ginny released a sob before bending her face to her knees to weep openly. "I know he was a git," she cried between heaving sobs, "b...but he was still my b...brother."

Harry was a bit taken back by her reaction, but he hurried around his desk to sooth her anyway. Even though ten years had past since Percy's death, Ginny was hearing of it for the first time. She hadn't been given the opportunity to mourn and heal as the rest of her family had. Although as Harry thought back, there had been so much anger and shame surrounding Percy's death that no one had ever probably cried over him. Harry felt a stab of remorse as he gently rubbed Ginny's back.

Ginny's tears diminished, and she finally straightened. She made to wipe her eyes and nose on the sleeve of her new jumper, but Harry quickly handed her his handkerchief instead. "I'm sorry," she mumbled while mopping her face. "It's just that my worst fears were true. All those years...never knowing."

Harry felt a stabbing pain in his chest. To lose a family member was bad enough, but to spend ten years worrying and never knowing must have been pure torture. He felt hot tears of empathy prick the back of his eyes. "Too many people died in that war," Harry said stiffly.

Ginny's lips parted in a crooked sort of smile as she gazed up at him. "I don't think I can handle hearing about anymore today." Her eyes were still watering heavily as she absently patted Harry's thigh. "Maybe in a couple of days or something."

Harry helped Ginny get shakily to her feet. She refused his escort back to her room, and Harry was left alone feeling like the Hogwarts Express had just struck him.


	10. Old Enemies

**Disclaimer:** Top five things I don't own 1) that black wool coat I liked, 2) the super-extendo edition of Return of the King (no yet anyways), 3) a baby grand piano, 4) Cuba, 5) Harry Potter and his universe.

**A/N:** "I'm not dead yet!" Work has been crazy lately. This chapter was going to be longer, but I decided to split it in two. The other half should be appearing soon.

Harry Potter and the Lost Library  
Chapter 9: Old Enemies

Hermione's article appeared in the Daily Prophet two days later. It was a semi-technical piece that conveyed the circumstances of Ginny's vanishing and hinted at the complex nature of the specialized counter-charm used to return her. The article also included a plea to the Wizarding community to not hold onto false hope for the deceased and the assurance that aid would be given in those cases similar to Ginny's. Although Hermione wasn't happy about a couple of inaccuracies in the piece, it did seem to accomplish her over-all goal. The flood of owls to Floogle Castle from desperate families diminished to a slow trickle.

Ginny remained unaware of the controversy surrounding her return as she struggled to adjust to life at Floogle Castle. After a few days of exploring the inside, Ginny began spending an almost inordinate amount of her time outside on the grounds. She would walk for hours on end, try to remedy Harry's abysmal gardens, and play rough and tumble games with her two nephews. Her family could barely persuade her to come inside for meals

Harry and the Weasleys followed Ginny through all her strange activities. It was as if a dozen people were living as one. But, as time passed without incident and the family's anxieties began to fade, they all became eager to return to their normal lives. In a final act of family togetherness, the group decided to make a shopping expedition to London.

Exactly two weeks to the day of Ginny's return, everyone lined up in front of the gigantic fireplace that warmed the dinning hall of Floogle Castle. Harry played the host and stood politely holding the small metallic box he used for storing floo powder. By this time, Ginny had no reservations as she stepped into the fire and said clearly, "Diagon Alley." Harry was the last one to go through, and he rolled out into the main room of the Leaky Cauldron to quite a scene.

The appearance of the easily recognizable Weasleys had created a bit of a stir in the pub. The patrons were eager to get a glimpse of The-Girl-Who-Lived, and the family was soon surrounded by well-wishing witches and wizards. Harry was reminded of the first time Hagrid had brought him to the Leaky Cauldron and of the crowd pushing forward to shake his hand. The party might never have made it past the pub's main room if Fred and George hadn't shot off a few of their finest fireworks. In the pandemonium that followed, Mrs. Weasley was able to shove her family outside without notice. A quick tap of Mr. Weasley's wand, and the whole of Diagon Alley stretched out before them.

The first order of business was to head over to Gringotts. In the past, this would have been a rather depressing stop for the Weasleys since their vault was always pitifully empty. While Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were not exactly wealthy now, Mr. Weasley had received a hefty pay raise with his promotion and their sons were financially independent. So, it was a modest pile of gold and silver that met their eyes when the goblins opened the Weasley's vault.

It took most of the morning to visit all of the necessary Gringott's vaults, and the group visited Florean Fortescue's for an ice cream before splitting into two groups. The female members of the party, led by Mrs. Weasley, set off to Madam Malkin's to begin the daunting task of expanding Ginny's wardrobe. While the girls dealt with the tedium of fashion, Harry and the Weasley men drifted naturally over to Quality Quidditch Supply.

A month ago, Harry would never have imagined that anything could have distracted him from the product lines of Quality Quidditch Supply. Yet as the minutes ticked nervously by, Harry couldn't quell the churning in his stomach. _Was Ginny all right? Was she feeling overwhelmed or frightened?_ He wondered. Memories of his journey with Ginny from London to York picked annoyingly at his conscience. As the thoughts filtered through his mind, he felt a twinge embarrassment at his own preoccupation. Why couldn't he just lose himself in the new line of racing brooms?

"Harry," Ron's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"What?" Harry asked shaking his head.

Ron rolled his eyes. "I asked what you thought about the Solar Wind's stabilization system?"

Harry looked absently at the bright yellow and orange broom resting on the display in front of them. "Oh that," Harry sighed, "I guess it might work okay."

Ron released an exasperated sigh. "What's with you mate?" he asked.

Harry looked pointed at his watch. "How long does it take to buy a couple of robes? Honestly."

Ron laughed, "For you and me...a half an hour max. But they're girls, it might take all day." His voice held the smugness of a married man, and Harry had the sudden urge to smack him.

By lunchtime, the wonders of Quality Quidditch Supply were exhausted even for Ron. The group left the store, and Mr. Weasley popped into Madam Malkin's to check on the other group's progress. He quickly returned with a rather dour expression on his face. "It's going to be awhile boys," he said grimly, "Molly and the girls decided to hit the salon as soon as they were done with robe shopping."

Ron and Bill groaned knowingly, but the others just looked confused. "They're didn't go to th...that place?" Ron asked with a loud gulp as he inclined his head down the street.

The establishment Ron had indicated was a narrow building painted a violent shade of lilac. The wooden sign above the pastel striped awning was carved in the shape of a fat unicorn. It read, "The Whimsical Unicorn: All Magical Salon and Spa." A little sign dangled underneath saying, "Free tea-leaf reading with every service."

"Afraid so," Mr. Weasley grumbled. "We might as well head off to the Leaky Cauldron for a spot of lunch."

"I can't stand that place," Ron muttered as they passed the salon. As if sensing his loathing, the store emitted a burst of rose scent that caused their eyes to water. "Lavender Brown and the Pavarti sisters own it. Hermione swears by all their products, but they're always predicting you'll be involved in some sort of accident before you get a chance to benefit from their potions."

The men enjoyed a leisurely lunch before retiring to wait at the twins shop for the girls. While Fred and George checked product displays and quizzed the shop attendant about the past week's sales, the rest sat comfortably to the side watching a steady stream of customers enter and leave the store. As it was a weekday, most of the consumers consisted of children too young for Hogwarts and young witches and wizards skiving off work to buy jokes.

"Arthur Weasley don't you dare," a stern voice echoed in the shop. Harry looked quickly from the angry outline of Molly Weasley in the shop door to young Arty. The smallest Weasley had frozen in place as he was clearly about to touch his father's wand to a large papier-mâché cone. The little sign next to the cone read, "Krakatau. Warning: This firework may cause hearing loss and adversely affect the weather."

"Arty," Bill admonished, but the corners of his mouth twitched as he retrieved his wand from his son.

The senior Arthur Weasley stepped forward to great his wife. "How was the salon?"

Harry noticed for the first time that Mrs. Weasley seemed somewhat overdone. Her hair was cut, curled, and styled in a fashion far more suited to someone half her age. She also appeared to have a great deal of sparkling blue powder smeared on her eyelids. Harry looked away quickly to hide his laughter. He caught the twins do the same.

"Fine, dear," Mrs. Weasley said while sweeping into the shop. "The girls at the salon made a bit of a fuss over Ginny."

Hermione and Fleur followed Mrs. Weasley into the shop. "A fuss," Hermione snorted, "They kept raving about how she was a blank canvas, and Lavender nearly fainted when Ginny said that she used a common scouring charm to clean her hair." Hermione had clearly shown more restraint than her mother-in-law. Her brown hair now fell in well-managed curls, and a slight sparkle was the only hint that she was also wearing some cosmetics. Fleur looked as she always looked, perfect.

Ginny tried to sidle into the shop unnoticed behind her sister-in-laws, but Harry's eyes leapt to her immediately. She was still wearing a simple Muggle-made skirt and jumper, but over that was draped a fine robe of deep forest green. Her hair had been cut so that the ends barely danced on her shoulders and layered so that it framed her face. Her eyes were shaded with smoky hues and her lips accented by a deep rose color. She was exotically beautiful, and Harry found himself staring.

Ginny caught his gaze and quickly turned away to blush prettily. She nervously fingered the ends of her hair before raising her eyes again. "It's a bit much," she murmured. "Padma went overboard with the Shine Potion."

"No, no, no," Harry said quickly. "It just looks really, really red." At his comment, both of Ginny's hands flew to her head as her face fell. "I mean it's very nice... like a fire...er...engine," Harry stammered lamely. Ginny's mouth fell open in shock and her eyes flared angrily. Harry took an involuntary step backwards and collided with a barrel full of walking sticks that fell over and promptly turned into snakes. Luckily, the mayhem that ensued saved Harry from any further embarrassment.

When all the snakes were turned back into walking sticks and returned to their display, the group was impatient to disembark from the Wizarding Weasley Wheezes to continue shopping. After all, there were ten years worth of missed birthday and Christmas presents to buy.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had already paid for Ginny's wardrobe and salon treatments, so Hermione and Ron bought Ginny a Silver Arrow broomstick. While the recently re-introduced and redesigned broomstick was not the top-of-the-line racing broom Ron had wanted to buy, the Silver Arrow was still a quality flier. Bill and Fleur purchased a handsome brass cauldron and matching scales, while Will and Arty chose a rather flamboyant peacock feather quill for their aunt. The group was just leaving the Magical Menagerie with a small gray tabby cat from Charlie when a drawling voice cut through the crowd. "If it isn't Potty and his Weasels."

Harry turned angrily to face his long time enemy. The years had not been exactly kind to Draco Malfoy. Any boyish softness in his features had been erased by the struggle of past years. After the war, the Malfoys had lost everything but an illusion of the prestige and power. Draco's face was now as pale, cold, and sharp as a knife blade.

"What do you want?" Hermione asked sharply. Her voice echoed vaguely with the sternness of Minerva McGonagall.

Draco turned harshly towards her. When his eyes fell upon her swollen stomach, he sneered unpleasantly. "It's a shame when wizarding families taint their bloodlines with Muggle-borns." His contemptuous gaze fell upon Fleur. "And other unworthy creatures."

In an instant, Harry and the Weasley men had their wands drawn. Even young Will and Arty were pointing joke wands that squeaked and turned into rubber rats at Malfoy.

Ginny's calm caustic voice cut through the tension. "You should seriously consider deepening your gene pool, Malfoy. What did you do? Marry your cousin?"

For the first time, Harry noticed a thin, tall woman standing beside Draco with her arm in his. She wore a large diamond ring on her left hand that was as pale and pointed as she was. Harry smirked as he recognized the almost familiar resemblance between Draco and his wife.

"Well, well, well, Ginny Weasley," Draco drawled while his eyes bore into her. "Our family was _so_ happy to hear of your safe return, my father in particular. He'll no doubt wish to congratulate you personally on your perseverance."

Ginny's face drained of color as she shrank back. Harry moved in front of her and took a menacing step forward. Draco merely smiled coldly at the implied threat before turning on his heel and disappearing into the crowd with his wife.

Every consonant sounded like a curse as Ron bit out, "I can't believe the nerve of that git." His brothers hooted their agreement.

Although he agreed with Ron whole-heartedly, Harry was more concerned with Ginny at the moment. She was trembling slightly. He put a reassuring arm around her. "You don't need to worry. Lucius Malfoy is locked away in Azkaban."

"He won't get out," Ginny whispered urgently, "because I'm back."

"No," Harry replied firmly, "He was tried for thirty-some-odd war crimes. The best he could hope for is a hundred years off his four thousand year sentence." Ginny's color began to return at Harry's statement. "Come on," Harry continued loud enough for everyone to hear, "Let's go to Ollivander's, and I'll buy you a new wand."


	11. The Secret Strongbox

**Disclaimer: **John Lennon once said, "Imagine no possessions, I wonder if you can." Unfortunately, Harry Potter and his universe are the possessions of J.K. Rowling.

**Harry Potter and the Lost Library**

**Chapter 10: The Secret Strongbox**

Ollivanders was just as tiny and oppressive as Harry remembered. The bell above the door tolled like a solemn church bell through the vacant shop. The room was empty except for a sales counter, thousands of wand boxes, and a single spindly chair.

"Good afternoon," said a soft voice. Harry jumped, as did some of the others, to find Mr. Ollivander standing behind them.

"Ginny needs a new wand," Harry said quickly.

"Ahhh, Miss Weasley," the old man sighed. He drew Ginny forward in a gentlemanly fashion. The gesture was just shy of creepy. "I don't believe I've had the pleasure before."

Ginny ducked her head to hide the redness of her cheeks. Harry watched with confusion as several of the other Weasleys followed suit.

Mr. Ollivander pulled out the silver tape measure from his pocket. "Your wand arm?" he asked. Ginny extended her right hand and the tape began measuring the width of her fingernails. "Now the wand you were using previously?"

"It was my grandmother's," Ginny replied quietly. Harry now understood the Weasley's embarrassment. He should have realized it earlier. Ginny had used a hand-me-down wand, just like Ron had owned before it broke during their second year.

"Wand inheritance," Mr. Ollivander said sharply, "not a wise practice. Mrs. Alice Prewett, correct? 12 ¾ inches, oak and unicorn hair...rather rigid but powerful. Did it work well for you?"

"Wonderfully," Ginny uttered defiantly. The silver tape was now measuring the circumference of her left ankle.

Mr. Ollivander raised an eyebrow at her. "What may I ask happened to that wand?"

"I broke it," Ginny replied tersely.

The news of the demise of one of his precious wands seemed to cause the old craftsman physical pain. "How?" he demanded.

"Trying to escape," she muttered rapidly.

"From where?" Mr. Ollivander pressed. Harry didn't think that Mr. Ollivander was normally so noisy, but perhaps the old man just kept detailed records of the fate of each of his wands. Regardless of his intentions, all ears strained for Ginny's reply.

Ginny merely smiled vaguely as if she hadn't heard. Meanwhile, the silver tape was now measuring length of her neck.

"Hmmm, that will do," Mr. Ollivander ordered the tape. As the silver measuring tape sunk to the floor, he walked over to a tall stack of small boxes and nimbly slid one from the middle. He extracted the wand and held it towards Ginny. "13 inches, dragon heart string and holly, quite whippy."

Ginny waved the wand with no result. Mr. Ollivander quickly snatched the wand away and handed another to her. This wand wasn't any more successful. As wand after wand proved useless in Ginny's hand, the shopkeeper became more excited.

While Mr. Ollivander might have enjoyed a challenge, after an hour and a mountain of wands, even he was discouraged. "All right Miss Weasley," the old man said determinedly, "I want you to use a summoning charm to bring the correct wand to you."

A collective grown was issued from the sagging Weasleys. "If she could just summon a new wand, why did you waste our time with this mess?" Fred demanded pointing at the pile of wands.

Mr. Ollivander just scowled in answer. While Harry agreed with Fred, he suspected a simple summoning charm took all the drama out of the wand selection process. It certainly made Mr. Ollivander seem rather useless.

Ginny ignored the angry looks of disbelief her family were shooting at the shopkeeper and said, "Accio wand!"

Everyone looked around expectantly. Harry whirled around rather quickly when he had the sudden vision of a wand box striking him in the back of his head, but it was for nothing. No wands were pelting toward them.

"Accio wand!" Ginny repeated more forcefully.

This time Harry heard it. From somewhere deep in the shop came a rattling sound. It reminded Harry of the sounds Buckbeak made while trying to pull out of his chains. "It can't be," Mr. Ollivander whispered to himself. "Summon it again," he ordered.

"ACCIO WAND," Ginny shouted.

The rattling was unmistakable. Something large was trying desperately to reach them. "I'll be right back," Mr. Ollivander murmured politely.

The family exchanged confused looks. Ollivander returned dragging a very large trunk. The twins rushed forward and helped the old man set the trunk before Ginny. Carefully, the shopkeeper withdrew his own wand and tapped the large lock. The trunk sprung open to reveal another trunk within it. Mr. Ollivander had to mutter a password to open this trunk. The group pushed forward only to see yet another trunk inside. This one had to be stroked in just the right manner to open. Several minutes and trunks later, the old man extracted a wooden strongbox about the size of a brief case. He tapped the case with his wand and it sprouted four legs creating a small table. Finally from deep within his robes, Mr. Ollivander produced a gold key.

As the case sprung open, the group gasped. Harry pushed forward slightly to see five wands he had never imagined to exist. "You can't make wands out of metal," Ron gasped suddenly breaking the silence.

"Of course you can," Mr. Ollivander snapped, "However, most wizards cannot handle such a wand." He withdrew a dark blackish-gray wand and handed it to Ginny. "Iron from a meteorite with a core of topaz. Sturdy and good for manifesting the hidden."

With considerably more effort, Ginny gave the iron wand a wave. Nothing happen. Mr. Ollivander returned it to its spot on the red velvet cushion. He handed her the next one. "Copper with emerald. Smooth and can create powerful love spells." When that didn't work, there was, "Brass with garnet. Bold and has amazing healing powers." Next was, "Silver with diamond, pliable and channels power and strength." They had come to the last of the amazing wands. "24 karat gold from a single nugget with a core of amethyst. Subtle and good for protection."

When Ginny waved the golden wand, the entire room filled with a beautiful, warm light. For a moment, Harry felt as if he was being embraced.

"Ahhh," Mr. Ollivander sighed, "An excellent wand."

Ginny was staring with amazement at the wand in her hand. She closed her eyes and sighed contently with a small smile on her lips. Then she carefully laid the golden wand back onto the velvet cushion. "I can't use a wand like that," she declared.

Mr. Ollivander released what could only be called a shriek. "What do you mean?" he demanded. "Of course you can! You must!" His tone was almost desperate. He picked up the golden wand and thrust it at Ginny. "It is one of my finest works," Mr. Ollivander murmured zealously. He pushed the wand into Ginny's hand, but she tried to refuse it. A reverse sort of tug-of-war was going on between them. "You must take it. If a wand such as this has chosen you, than none other will work," Mr. Ollivander insisted.

"I don't need a wand," Ginny claimed, "Especially one made out of gold."

"You'd stick out like a sore thumb walking around with that wand," Ron called over Ginny's shoulder, "and someone might try and nick it. Hell, I'd even be tempted."

Mr. Ollivander shot Ron a look so cold that Harry feared his friend would get frostbite on the end of his rather long nose. The old man soon relented and directed a much more kindly gaze on Ginny. "Wands like these in the strongbox are very rare and precious indeed, and they only belong in the hands of the greatest of witches and wizards. Obviously it is not wise to parade the fact that you posses such a spectacular and powerful wand. Luckily there is a simple spell you can use to disguise it. _Muto Virgra_." At the shopkeeper's spell, the golden sheen faded and the wand soon appeared to be made out of fine mahogany. Even disguised the wand was magnificent.

"We'll take it," Harry said determinedly. The shopkeeper beamed at him and hurried away to wrap the wand before Ginny could offer further protest.

"Harry, no," Ginny pleaded touching her hand lightly to his arm. "It's too expensive."

Harry just smiled down at her and strolled over to the counter where Mr. Ollivander was waiting.

The old man was holding the carefully wrapped wand box absently in his hand. His eyes had a vacant look to them. "The last time I sold a metallic wand was over a hundred years ago," he murmured more to himself than Harry. "I never thought I would live to see another day like this."

Harry's stomach stirred uneasily. "How much?" he asked pulling a pouch of coins from inside his robes.

"This wand is a work of art," the shopkeeper uttered. "It is priceless."

Harry had to consciously stop his eyes from rolling. "How much?" he repeated.

Mr. Ollivander slid a small piece of parchment across the table. Harry took a deep breath before picking the slip of parchment up. His eyebrows rose at the price. It was almost ten times what he had paid for his own wand years ago, yet he got the feeling that the sum written on parchment was a fraction of the actual cost of the wand. He shot a questioning look at the shopkeeper.

"It is a great honor to make and sell such a wand," Mr. Ollivander said solemnly. "I should almost be paying you for the distinction."

"Almost, but not quite," Harry smirked looking again to the slip of parchment in his hand. "I'll have the funds transferred from my vault as soon as possible."

Mr. Ollivander escorted Harry and the Weasleys to exit. He bent low over Ginny's hand and murmured, "Miss Weasley it has been a great privilege to serve you."

Ginny blushed and escaped quickly through the shop door. It had barely shut behind them when Will exclaimed loudly, "That old Ollivander is CREEPY."

"No," Ron said taking his nephew's hand, "He's just nutters."


	12. The Things We Remember

** Disclaimer:** Sadly I do not own Harry Potter or anything in his world. I know…hide your shock…it's unbecoming. 

**A/N: **Thanks to all the wonderful people who reviewed. I'm sorry for the long time it took to update. I've been working on a series of manuscripts for my job, and they have been eating up most of my writing time. I am going to try update more frequently. Please keep reviewing so I know people are interested.

**Chapter 11: The Things We Remember**

The return trip from Diagon Alley and the evening that followed were subdued by the knowledge that the next morning the Weasleys would be parting ways. The family was loathed to leave Ginny, but the demands of everyday life had grown too loud to ignore. After many tears and promises for frequent visits, the elder Weasleys finally apparated out of Floogle Castle. The old fortress seemed to sigh with relief, or perhaps sadness, at the newly re-established quiet.

September gave way to October, and eventually even Ron and Hermione returned to their jobs. Ginny and Harry were left alone for most of the day. At first, Harry found this a little awkward. He had enjoyed a sedate life of mediocre routine since leaving professional Quidditch and was embarrassed to have another person witness the tedium of it. Ginny, for her part, seemed uninterested in the activities, or lack there of, in Harry's daily routine. She merely would pluck books at random from the study shelves and read through them with amazing speed while Harry wiled away time at his desk. It was a comfortable but dull arrangement.

On a Monday morning, Harry found himself alone in his study. Since retiring from professional Quiditch, Harry had served as a substitute lecturer for Professor Lupin during the full moon. He was going to Hogwarts today to meet with Remus and discuss how far each of his classes had progressed in their dark arts studies. Harry glanced at the clock on his desk, he was running later than usual. He began shoving roles of parchment into his leather case.

"Are you going somewhere?" a voice called from across the room. Harry glanced upward to see Ginny coming towards him. She appeared freshly showered. Like him, Ginny couldn't find much reason to rise too early in the day.

"Hogwarts," he replied. Harry began throwing books into the leather case. Belatedly, he realized the error in this arrangement.

"Why?" Ginny's voice broke into his action.

"Why what?" he returned distractedly. He dumped the contents of the case out onto his desk and began repacking it immediately. This time he was sure to put the slightly squashed parchment rolls on top.

"Why are you going to Hogwarts?" Ginny clarified. There was an edge to her voice that Harry couldn't quite identify.

"Quills," Harry murmured absently before diving into one of his desk drawers.

"You need to pick up quills there?" Ginny asked with confusion.

"Professor Lupin only has those ridiculous self-inking quills," he explained. He carefully tucked a few of his favorite quills and inkbottles into their designated compartments in his case.

"Self…inking…quills," Ginny repeated slowly, "I don't understand."

"It think that's it," Harry murmured while latching the buckle on his case. He looked up to see Ginny standing opposite him with a mixture of horror and confusion on her face. "I know how you feel," Harry said, "I heard they're supposed to be the wave of the future, but I always make a mess of myself with those things."

Harry wrapped his traveling cloak around his shoulders and picked up his leather case. As he came around the desk, Ginny grabbed his wrist. "Where are you going?"

"I told you," Harry sighed, "I need to go to Hogwarts this afternoon." He tried to pull his arm out of her grasp.

Ginny refused to let go and brought her other hand to secure his elbow. "Do you have to go now?" she demanded.

"Of course I do," Harry said irritably, "The full moon is in three days."

"Let me get this straight," she muttered, "You need to go to Hogwarts to get quills because Professor Lupin only has self-inking ones and the full moon is approaching."

Harry starred at Ginny as if she had just sprouted a pair of fine antlers. "What are you on about?" he questioned incredulously. "I need to go to Hogwarts because I take over Professor Lupin's teaching duties while he's going through one of his transformations."

"Ohhh," Ginny sighed. She abruptly released Harry's arm. "Well that makes sense."

Harry held Ginny's bewildered gaze two moments longer before turning abruptly and striding back towards the fireplace. He had barely gone three steps when Ginny cried out from behind him, "WAIT!"

Harry released an exasperated sigh, "What now!" He executed a precise turn, but the anger melted from his mind when he caught a glimpse of Ginny's agonized expression before she turned her face from his. In a single heartbreaking moment, a realization came crashing in on him. _Ginny was afraid to be alone_. For a prolonged minute, Harry was at a loss as Ginny's face turned a startling Weasley red. "You…you could go with me," Harry stammered, "If you like."

With a sigh of grateful relief, Ginny's expression brightened. "I just need to change and fix myself up a bit," she said before dashing towards the door.

"I'm already late," Harry called belatedly after her retreating back. "Women," he muttered to the empty room as he shrugged out of his traveling cloak and sank into a nearby chair.

Barely ten minutes passed before the study door swung open, and Ginny came striding back inside. She was pulling a warm looking burgundy cloak on as she drew near him. Harry found it strange that the color suited her so well. Ron had always looked abysmal in the maroon robes his mother insisted on buying him, but then again, it was Ron. Unconsciously, Harry's eyes began to slide over Ginny's form. She had changed into a rich cream sweater and a pair of caramel colored trousers. The combination made her skin glow warmly.

Harry's gaze had lingered a bit to long on the curve of her hip, when a short snort of laughter brought his attention up to Ginny's amused expression. "Will I pass?" she teased, "Or would you like to inspect my shoes?"

Involuntarily, Harry's eyes fell towards her feet. She was wearing shoes that added a good two inches onto her height and made her toes look as pointed as daggers. "Can you walk in those things?" he asked.

"Surprisingly, they're quite comfortable," Ginny remarked while helping Harry back on with his cloak. "They are enchanted so that every step you take is like getting a mini foot massage."

"That sounds quite nice," Harry said while picking up his case.

"Well," Ginny sighed, "You can wear them tomorrow if you like."

The sudden urge to capture Ginny in a laughing embrace almost overwhelmed Harry as she passed him. He was so shocked by the feeling that it took him a moment to realize she was waiting patiently by the fire for him.

As Harry appeared in the fireplace of Lupin's study, the professor's familiar voice drifted towards him. "Harry," he said, "I was just starting to worry about you."

"Sorry Remus," Harry murmured while stepping aside to let Ginny through.

"Ginny," Remus declared with surprise. "It's such a pleasure to see you. Harry should have mentioned he'd be bringing you along." He rose quickly from the chair he was occupying by the fire and came forward to greet them. Harry couldn't help but noticed the painful way Remus moved, like a man twice his age.

"Professor Lupin," Ginny said, grinning broadly. She swept forward and embraced her old friend and teacher. Harry felt a tiny spark of annoyance that he hid under a slight cough. The two pulled apart and exchanged inquires about the other's health.

"Please, please have a seat," Remus said gesturing towards a rather comfortable looking sofa. Ginny and Harry sat dutifully down next to one another. "I've been hearing regular news of you from Professor Dumbledore. You're living at Floogle Castle now. How do you like it?"

As Ginny and Remus fell into polite conversation, Harry relaxed and lounged comfortably back on the sofa. He amused himself by watching Ginny's animated expression as she talked about the sorry state of castle gardens. The firelight danced on the little strands of gold in her hair as it swayed. The movement mesmerized him until a knock on the door caught all their attentions.

"Come in," Remus called.

Professor Dumbledore entered. His keen gaze searched the room, and smile appeared on his lips when he saw Ginny sitting next to Harry. "Professor Lupin," he said, "I'm sorry to interrupt, but I was wondering if I could persuade Miss Weasley to join me for a cup of tea."

Remus made no indication of astonishment that Dumbledore had somehow known that Ginny would be in his office while he had been completely surprised by her appearance. "Of course Headmaster," he replied, "Harry and I need to discuss my lesson plans anyway."

"I would be delighted to join you," Ginny said happily. As she stood, Harry and Remus rose automatically.

"Ginny," Harry said, "I'll find you when Professor Lupin and I are finished."

"Thank you, Harry," she replied. She gave his arm a brief squeeze before going to join Professor Dumbledore. Harry's eyes trailed her.

Professor Dumbledore seemed to be suppressing a laugh when he said, "Don't worry, Harry. I'll take expert care of her."

After they left, Harry turned back to catch an amused grin of Remus' face. "What?" he barked.

"Nothing," Remus replied before turning towards his desk. "My first class on Wednesday is the first year Ravenclaws and Gryffindors."

Harry and Remus had talked for the better part of three hours about the schedule, lessons, and potential disciplinary problems. They paused when a house elf appeared with lunch but soon took up a discussion about the advanced classes. It was a comfortable routine between two friends, and they were as good as finished when Professor Lupin excused himself to begin his afternoon classes.

Harry idly decided to go off in search of Ginny. As he wandered through the empty passages and past busy classrooms, he was struck again by how odd it was to walk down a Hogwarts hall during class period and not have to fear for detention. As he approached the gargoyle that guarded the entrance to Dumbledore's office, it moved aside and the Headmaster stepped out into the hallway and turned in the opposite direction. "Professor," Harry called.

"Ah Harry," Dumbledore said turning back towards him. "Everything settled with Professor Lupin?"

"Yes, Professor," Harry answered. "Is Ginny ready to leave?"

"I don't know," Dumbledore replied. "She left my office earlier to have lunch with Professor Weasley, and I think she mentioned something about touring the grounds after that."

"Thank you Professor." Harry didn't bother to continue the conversation and whirled on his heel, quickly retreating to the stairway. He purposely ignored Dumbledore's laughter, which followed him down the hall.

As Harry emerged onto the grounds, he seemed to know instinctively where Ginny was. He headed with swift strides towards the cemetery. Within minutes, he had passed through the memorial gardens. Ginny's red hair and robes stood out like a beacon amongst the white tombstones. He quickened his pace.

Anxious and unsure, Harry paused behind Ginny. The wilt-resistant flowers Harry and Ron had placed on her grave over a month ago were just beginning to fade, and no new ones had been added since her return.

Ginny's voice was cold and emotionless as she said, "How many people get to stand on their grave and read their epitaph?"

In answer, Harry stepped up beside her and put a comforting arm around her waist. She turned slightly towards him and did the same. Her eyes were rimmed with tears and her nose was red. They stood quietly together, two survivors. Finally in an unspoken agreement, they turned and began strolling past graves towards the memorial gardens.

They were only a few graves away when Ginny paused. A name on a Hufflepuff stone caught her attention. "I remember him," she whispered slowly. "He sat right behind me in History of Magic. He used to snore."

Harry momentarily tightened his hold on her to quietly draw her away. He didn't want to belittle her grief, but he desperately wanted out of the cemetery. Harry knew to well a person could spend hours walking amongst the graves, letting anger at the senselessness of it all and the shame of surviving overwhelm them.

As they entered the memorial gardens, Harry could feel Ginny pulling away from him even though his arm was around her and hers around him. "It's stupid you know," he uttered, his voice filling the gap between them, "All those lives destroyed. For what? The blind ambition of one crazy wizard."

Ginny stopped abruptly, and Harry was forced to release her. He turned to face her. She was staring intently at the ground just to his right. Her expression was no longer sad but troubled. "What?" Harry asked gently.

"I have to ask you something," she replied. Her voice was barely above a whisper, and Harry had to incline his head towards her to hear what she said next. "How did you do it? How did you beat Tom?"

Harry exhaled sharply and straightened at her request. Yet staring into her weary eyes, he suddenly felt the need to tell what he had never fully shared with another. "Let's sit down," he said drawing her away into a private alcove of trees. They sank side by side onto a cool stone bench.

"After you disappeared," Harry began. "I followed Voldemort down into the Chamber of Secrets. Malfoy would have told him that the basilisk was dead, so I think he was trying to find an old passageway out of the school. He seemed surprised by the amount of collapse that had occurred in the Chamber.

"We started dueling, and I was losing … badly. I could barely manage to deflect his curses. Soon I was pinned in a corner, and I realized that I was going to die. My life started flashing before my eyes." Harry paused, searching for the right words. "I never would have characterized my life as happy, but as Voldemort advanced on me, all I could think about were good things. The sound of my parents' voices…the day I learned I was a wizard…the first time I got on a broom…my friends…learning about Sirrus…the Order of the Phoenix. It was strange, but the more I thought of those things, the easier it was to deflect Voldemort's curses.

"The course of our duel quickly changed, and soon it was Voldemort who was failing. It was like he was moving in slow motion, and I was racing at the speed of light. Finally he was down on the ground with nothing but a weak shield around him, and I knew exactly how to end it. I put every scrap of happiness and love that I had felt in my entire life behind _Avada Kedavra_, and it killed him instantly."

Silence fell as each allowed his words to penetrate into their minds. "I knew he was dead," Ginny whispered slowly. "I knew the instant. I felt it."

Harry looked sharply at Ginny. Her hands were clutching the edge of the bench. Her pale expression and gaze were focused on the ground a few feet in front of her. She was thinking back to that day and examining her experiences. Harry perceived the opportunity and jumped at it. "What happened after you disappeared from the hallway?"

"At first I was so disoriented," she admitted. "I didn't recognize any of my surroundings, but there was something oddly familiar about it. I hunted around for the door, but I couldn't find it. I started shouting for help, but Godric told me to quiet myself. No one can hear you anyways, he said."

"Who?" Harry blurted. Immediately he regretted his hasty slip. He had interrupted her train of thought, and in doing so, returned her to the present.

Ginny stood up abruptly. She took a few hasty steps away before stopping and turning partially back towards Harry. "I don't want to talk about this," she muttered, "I can't talk about this."

Harry stood. "It's okay," he said hesitantly, "You don't have to hold it inside."

"You're one to talk," Ginny snorted. "I'm probably the first person to hear the full story of how you defeated Voldemort."

"Maybe," Harry grumbled, "but I'm an idiot. You don't have to be one too!"

Ginny's mouth was already open to shot back a sharp retort when Harry's words finally permeated her brain. She started laughing. Soon, she was bent over and clutching her sides as peels of laughter exploded from her.

Harry was struck for the second time that day by the strong desire to embrace Ginny. It was followed almost immediately by the wish to do something nice for her, something special. A grin lit his face as a splendid idea popped magically into his head. It would require a fair bit of planning, but Harry knew just the two witches to help him pull it off. He stifled his excitement and said to Ginny, "Why don't we head back up to the school? We should probably floo home."


	13. Sleeping Dogs

** Disclaimer:** "It took me like three hours to finish the shading on the upper lip. It's probably the best drawing I've ever done." Napoleon Dynamite. 

**A/N: **Hello my beautiful reviewers (hands out cookies). Thank you all! This is a small but necessary chapter. It does have lots of Ron being Ron, and I love that. Be patient, big things are on the way.

**Chapter 12: Sleeping Dogs**

That evening, Ginny was uninterested in socializing. She retired to her room with a stack of books shortly after dinner. As Ron and Hermione unwound in their favorite sitting room, Harry took the opportunity to fill them in on the glimpse Ginny had given him into her experiences.

"Are you sure she said Godric?" Hermione asked.

"Quite," Harry answered.

"Well that could be very useful then," Hermione murmured more to herself than anyone in particular.

"I don't see how," Ron said as he pulled his feet out of his shoes. He made to put them on the coffee table, but a stern look from his wife changed his mind. In order to obtain an equal comfort level, he slouched down in his chair and stretched his legs underneath the table instead. "I imagine that Godric is quite a popular name…at least within wizarding England. Ra-rah Gryffindor and all that stuff."

"Don't be silly, Ron," Hermione admonished. "Everyone knows it's taboo to name a child after a founder of Hogwarts."

Ron shot Harry a look to see if it really was common knowledge. Harry merely shrugged his shoulders in reply.

"Honestly, you two," Hermione muttered. She pinched the bridge of her nose in a manner that clearly stated she was praying for patience. "Can you imagine sending your son off to Hogwarts with the name Godric and he doesn't get put in Gryffindor House? Or worst yet, he does?"

Harry flinched involuntarily, and Ron swallowed audibly. Each knew the horror of having an overly recognizable name. "Don't worry, love," Ron said wickedly. "I was thinking we could name our son Ragmar after the manager of the Chudley Canons."

Harry quickly ducked his head to hide his laughter. Hermione turned first red than white with anger. "I WILL NOT NAME ANY SON OF MINE AFTER A CHUDLEY CANON!"

"Calm down Hermione. I was only joking," Ron laughed, "Besides, Ragmar was an awful manager."

Harry got the distinct impression that for a single brass knut Hermione would have cursed Ron into the next century, but she merely rolled her eyes and turned back to Harry. "Maybe she was just confused."

"I don't think so," Harry replied. "She seemed pretty focused on what she was saying."

"Then this could be a solid lead to where Ginny was trapped," Hermione said confidently. "I'll make sure to add it to the notes I've been keeping."

"Notes?" The questioned sounded more like a croak as Harry's voice cracked with bewilderment.

"Yes," Hermione explained, "I've been keeping careful notes about Ginny's behavior and comments she's made since her return. I hoping I can draft some sort of profile of where she's been and what happened to her."

Harry swallowed uncomfortably. He shot a quick glance over to Ron and saw the same unease written on his friends face.

"Maybe it isn't the best idea," Ron said slowly as if he was first voicing a thought that had wound around in his brain for weeks. "Maybe it doesn't really matter where Ginny was."

Hermione glared at her husband with disbelief. "Surely you can't be serious? Ten years of her life are unaccounted for. Don't you want answers?"

"Of course I'm curious," Ron said quickly, "but Ginny's back with us now. She's re-adjusting. There's no reason to go poking around and dredging up the past. Let sleeping dogs lie, I say."

"Sleeping dogs," Hermione muttered angrily. She snapped quickly around to Harry. "You can't possibly agree with him."

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat and chose his words carefully. "Everyone wants to know all the facts, but are we pursuing them to help Ginny or to appease our curiosity?"

"I want to help Ginny," Hermione replied quickly, "you know that."

"Than I don't think the past ten years are a mystery to Ginny," Harry said truthfully. "I think she knows exactly where she was and what happened to her."

Hermione was struck momentarily speechless by Harry's comment. Finally, she stuttered, "B…but she's never said anything…anything."

"That's how she was after the Chamber of Secrets," Ron commented absently. Clearly he was still trying to sort out his thoughts and memories. "Ginny never spoke about it, and she nearly died down there."

"She can't just go on pretending like nothing happened. It's not healthy," Hermione said weakly.

Harry was inclined to agree, but on the other hand, he had never been one for openly dealing with emotional issues. Certainly there was no immediate cause for digging up the mystery of Ginny's disappearance. "Ginny will confide in someone when she's ready."

Ron nodded in agreement, but Hermione seemed unimpressed by Harry's argument. She shot a few incredulous looks at Harry and her husband before rolling her eyes. "I think she's more likely to wind up in St. Mungo's." She released a heavy sigh before rising awkwardly. "But, I'll let it go for now. Lord knows with a baby on the way I have enough to worry about."

* * *

Harry had cause to wonder about Ginny's candidacy for St. Mungo's when she announced during supper on Friday, "I've decided to start attending Hogwarts."

"What!" Ron blurted as his fork fell noisily to the floor.

"You heard me," Ginny said while calmly slicing her carrots. "I'm going to enroll back at Hogwarts."

Harry contemplated the end of his fork where a piece of steak and kidney pie remained frozen part way to his mouth. Ginny had went with Harry to the school each day as he attended to his duties in Professor Lupin's classroom, but she spent most of her time meeting and having tea with Professor Dumbledore. Harry had wondered at the time about the nature of those visits.

Ron was staring gaped mouthed at his sister. "Why would you want to do something like that?"

"Because Ron," Ginny explained, "I never finished my final year."

"Neither did Fred and George, and they've done all right," Ron uttered, " Besides, you're too old to be a student."

Ginny looked very much like she wanted to stick her brother with her fork. "I wouldn't be a traditional student. I will be working one on one with the professors to prepare me for the NEWTs."

"NEWTs," Ron sputtered. "Who cares about the NEWTs?"

Hermione released a loud squeak as if Ron had just blasphemed. "Ron," she admonished, "NEWTs are an important milestone in the educational process."

"Yes," Ginny sighed, "But more importantly, I need to do well with the NEWTs for my future career."

"What's that?" Ron shouted. He looked surprising like someone who just realized he had gotten on the wrong train.

"I haven't decided for certain yet," Ginny replied calmly, "But without having NEWTs, my options are limited."

Ron glared accusingly at his wife. "Did you put this idea into her head?"

Both Ginny and her sister-in-law looked incised, but it was Ginny who replied first. "No Ron. Professor Dumbledore was the person who suggested it."

Ron seemed properly chastised, but he was unwilling to totally abandon the argument. "It seems silly to me," he muttered, "I mean are you still considered a Gryffindor?"

"I not going to be living at the school," Ginny explained, "I'll only need to be there three days a week, so I'll commute in morning like Hermione."

"I think you've made a wise decision," Hermione complimented, " And, we should all applaud Ginny for taking a positive step towards her future."

Harry had been silent throughout the entire exchange, and although Hermione looked to him for support, he remained mute. His appetite had mysteriously disappeared, so he focused instead on pushing a carrot around his plate. On some level, he realized he was pouting like child, but the idea of Ginny going back to Hogwarts annoyed him.

"Harry, what do you think?" Ginny's question cut into his sulk.

Harry met her gaze across the table. He couldn't explain exactly how, but he could sense her wavering resolve and her fear of an uncertain future. She wanted, no needed, his support. "I guess you have to do what you feel is right," he sighed, "I mean how hard can it be. You live with two professors already, and Ron has his occasional uses."

"HEY!" Ron protested, but he was drowned out by Ginny and Hermione's laughter.


	14. Surprises

**Disclaimer: **You know the drill.

**A/N: **I've updated this chapter again and slightly extended the last bit. Harry's ruminations on the party I've saved for the next chapter. To my faithful reviewers, this story will continue on regardless of the happenings in book 6. I actually have the whole thing more or less plotted out.

**Chapter 13: Surprises**

Harry's plan for a surprise had started out with a very simple idea: a small dinner party for Ginny and her old friends from Hogwarts. Since he had no notion about hosting such an event, he had turned to Hermione for help. She had jumped on the idea and quickly enlisted the aid of Mrs. Weasley and Fleur. The small dinner party quickly ballooned into formal event complete with a seven-course meal, ball, and well over a hundred guests. The Weasleys, it seemed, were ready to celebrate.

The sheer scale of the event had removed some of the surprise. Even with her new schedule of classes, Ginny could hardly ignore the parade of caterers and decorators taking over the castle's ballroom, main dinning hall, and kitchens. It was Ron who had come up with the cover story, "Just tell her that Dad was asked to host the annual Ministry of Magic Autumn Festival."

Hermione, Mrs. Weasley, and Fleur had truly outdone themselves. They had organized the event with military precision, and the whole affair had come together at the speed of Harry's Firebolt 3000. Even though Harry had conceived of the idea the second week of October, the event was planned to correspond with Bonfire Night. Mrs. Weasley had pushed for Halloween, but Hermione had put her foot down as the traditional Hogwarts' Halloween celebration would preclude a portion of her guest list from attending.

Harry was currently standing in front of his bedroom mirror attempting to make sense out of his bowtie. "How does that look?" he asked after his third attempt.

"It's still crooked," his mirror replied in a haughty tone. Harry's mirror was a relict dating back to the original owner of Floogle Castle. It had a cantankerous personality and disapproved of Harry in general. "In my day," the mirror continued on when Harry didn't reply immediately, "A gentleman wore a proper ruff or a lovely flowing cravat. Not that I would expect any such thing from you."

Without regard to the mirror's comments, Harry pulled at his tie until it was reasonably straight. Ron had suggested on many occasions that Harry toss the belligerent mirror out the window. Aside from being afraid of the very real curses that arose from breaking a magical mirror, Harry was strangely fond of it. He had even named it Sir Shiny, a name the mirror abhorred.

With a finally glance at his reflection; Harry shrugged into his dress robes. They were an attractive shade of bottle green rather similar to the first set of dress robes he had ever owned. "Your hair is still untidy," Sir Shiny called after Harry's retreating back, "I would suggest a handsome powdered wig, but such fashion would be lost on the likes of you."

In the hall outside his room, Harry almost literally ran into Ron and Hermione. Ron as usual favored simple and elegant charcoal gray dress robes. Hermione was wearing robes of deep rose, but she seemed to be concerned about the way the robes hung on her pregnant body. She kept pulling the material first one way than another. Harry thought she looked beautiful and told her so.

"Thank you," she said. Her eyes were shimmering with unshed hormonally induced tears.

"I've told her that about a dozen times," Ron whispered out of the corner of his mouth to Harry, "And each time she nearly took my head off."

Hermione chose ignored her husband's comment. "Everyone is in place," she said, "Harry, go and bring Ginny downstairs. Ron and I will quiet everyone down and cast the mirage spell."

Harry nodded dutifully and head off to fetch Ginny. Her room was along the south side of the castle, two floors above Harry's. If Harry remembered correctly, rooms along this hall had wonderful views of the garden. He felt another twinge of guilt over his poor quality landscaping.

Harry had his hand raised ready to knock when he suddenly paused. Looking either way down the hallway, he spotted just what he needed. He strode down and quickly glanced up into another mirror. Sir Shiny had been right. His hair was untidy. He quickly tried to smooth out the more stubborn bits.

"My, my," said the mirror with the voice of a kindly old lady, "Don't you look handsome?" Harry groaned inwardly. He remembered this mirror. He had walked by it a few days after the bludger accident that ended his professional Quidditch career. The mirror had cooed the very same compliment to him even though half his face was swollen and the color of an over-ripened banana.

Harry nearly vaulted through the ceiling when a redhead appeared over his shoulder at the same time a voice said laughingly, "I'm starting to worry about you Harry. You're turning into Gilderoy Lockhart. First writing memoirs, and now admiring yourself in hallway mirrors."

"Ginny!" he squeaked wheeling around quickly.

"My, my," the mirror cooed catching sight of Ginny, "Aren't you the loveliest witch?" Harry couldn't fault the mirror with this assessment. Ginny looked stunning in simply cut robes of subtle blues and purples that seemed to dance as she moved. Her bright auburn locks were curled and had crystals nestled among them. Her eyelids were dusted with shimmering hues to match her robes, and her mouth was perfectly accented by a light pink gloss. The over all effect was startlingly exotic. Harry found breathing suddenly very difficult at the same time that his heart began racing in his chest.

Ginny seemed oblivious to the effect she was having on him. "You're tie is crooked," she murmured. Her small hands reached up to undo it. "Lift your chin," she ordered. Harry tried to focus on his breathing as he felt the gentle tugging of his tie on his neck and the occasional almost electrical shock as her fingers accidentally grazed the underside of his chin. "There," she said finally while forcibly turning him to face the mirror, "How does that look?"

"Fine," Harry murmured, "I can never seem to get it right."

"Mum says that men are helpless when it comes to dressing themselves," Ginny commented absently. "You need to get yourself a wife."

"You're getting married?" the mirror spouted, "Don't you make a handsome couple?"

Harry froze, but Ginny merely laughed and tugged on his arm. "Come on," she beckoned, "That mirror is cracked."

As Harry allowed Ginny to lead him away, he heard the mirror say, "I'm cracked. Isn't that lovely?"

"Have any of the guests arrived?" Ginny asked as they rounded the corner that led to the main staircase.

"No," Harry lied, "Hermione wants us to gather in the entrance hall to greet them as they appear." Actually, all of the guests had arrived over half-an-hour ago and were waiting patiently in the entrance hall. Hermione would have by now cast a spell that made the gigantic room appear empty.

Ginny chattered along merrily about the party and who might be there, but Harry's doubts grew with every step he and Ginny descended. Would the party too much for Ginny? Was she more fragile than he realized? Should he have forced Hermione to keep the guest list down to just close personal friends?

With his thoughts swirling ever faster, Harry abruptly stopped before the turn that would lead them to the last flight of stairs and into the view of the entrance hall. "Ginny," he blurted, "If you don't want to attend or want to leave early, everyone will understand."

Ginny's brow crinkled with concern, not for herself but for Harry. "It's just a bunch of ministry fuddy-duddies. They won't pay one stitch of attention to me."

Harry laughed nervously, plastered a large grin on his face, and turned the corner. As soon as he and Ginny descended the first step, Hermione's mirage spell was broken. The entrance hall suddenly filled with people, and a large roar of "SURPRISE" reached the rafters.

Ginny turned a shade of alabaster and wobbled slightly. Harry instinctively tightened his grip on her arm. A rousing chorus of "She's a Jolly Good Fellow" rose from the smiling and cheering crowd, and from somewhere in the back of the room, a package of wizarding fireworks was ignited. "I don't understand," Ginny gasped.

"It's a party," Harry explained softly, "for you."

Ginny's eyes widened as she glanced back and forth between Harry and the rest of the room. Soon her eyes became focused on a witch and two wizards that were making their way up the stairs towards her. "Luna," Ginny cried, "Colin…Denis." Ginny turned her now tearful eyes once more toward Harry before racing down the steps to embrace her old friends. Soon she was swept away into the crowd of partygoers and well-wishers.

Harry had seen the massive guest list Hermione had manufactured, but the reality of all those names hadn't struck him until he was looking down on an entrance hall crammed with people. As he gazed around at the crowd, distinct groups of people began to appear. There were the red-headed extensions of the Weasley family, several years worth of Hogwarts students and half of the current Hogwarts staff, ministry officials from the Muggle Relations and the Games and Sports departments where Mr. Weasley and Ron worked, most of the Chudley Cannon Quidditch team from the years Harry played, the battle scarred remnants of the Order of the Phoenix, a brash group of dragon handlers, a veritable baby-boom of wizarding children, and even a group of rather uncomfortable looking Gringotts' goblins.

Lee Jordan hailed Harry over to where he and the twins were standing. As he descended the last of the stairs, he lost track of Ginny's progress through the room. In fact, in the crush of people he didn't see Ginny until she sat down next to him at the feast.

"Oh Harry," she breathed excitedly, "This is just wonderful. There are so many familiar faces, and everyone has been too kind."

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself," Harry murmured.

"I can't believe how much people have changed yet remain exactly the same," she continued on in rushed tones, "Luna is married! Can you believe that? He's an American by the name of Lance Hearst. He seems very nice, although I think that he's a bit vague. Luna turned over the Quibbler to Colin Creevy, and now she and her husband devote their time to searching the globe for magical creatures. Apparently, they've written several books documenting their finds. Luna said that a few have appeared on the bestseller's list. I thought that a bit strange, but then Colin whispered to me that the books were on the fiction list. Meanwhile, Colin tells me that he's trying to turn the Quibbler around. He thinks that in a few years it will be a real rival for the Prophet."

When Ginny finally paused, Harry had to stifle the desire to clap. Like her young nephews, the girl had the amazing ability to relate volumes of information into a single breath. Of course Ginny's news was not news to Harry, but he liked to hear her tell it. Her eyes and smile were charmingly animated.

The appearance of delectably filled silver dishes put a halt to further conversation as Ginny became preoccupied with the meal. One thing Harry had always admired about Ginny was that she didn't pick at her food in the bird-like manor that other women seemed to employ. No, she ate with an enthusiasm that rivaled Ron's. Harry would have dug in with the same gusto but was too preoccupied with thoughts of the after dinner entertainment. It was only aspect of festivities that he had overseen personally.

The Chocolate Frogs were the latest musical phenomenon in the wizarding world. Harry had to use every ounce of his fame and reputation to book the band. They had surpassed the always-popular Weird Sisters a few years ago in the charts. This was due in part to their younger and more handsome appearance, but it could be mostly explained by the Weird Sisters self-proclaimed retirement. The Sisters, it seemed, had finally grown tired of making music and were now developing their passion for whiskey into a rather successful distillery.

Harry's nerves grew as the meal drew towards an end. He _was_ worried Ginny wouldn't care for a band that had come into existence six years after her disappearance, until it occurred to him that music would spawn dancing. He dropped his fork as any semblance of appetite left him in a rush. Much to the disgust of every girlfriend he had ever had, Harry had never acquired the ability to move on the dance floor with anything that could be called style or rhythm. In fact, he tended to resemble a drunken garden gnome when he attempted even a few simple steps. He chanced a panicked glance at Ginny. Would she want to dance with him? As nerve-racking as that possibility seemed, Harry found himself hoping for that very thing. He tried desperately to remember what Mrs. Weasley had taught him before Ron and Hermione's wedding.

As the silver platters of puddings began disappearing from the tables, guests began rising and stretching their legs in a vain attempt to work off some of their dinner. Harry rose nervously as Ginny did and offered her his arm.

"What next?" she asked excitedly as he led her out of the dinning room. Her eyes were shining up at him, and he swallowed convulsively. In doing so, he accidentally swallowed down the wrong tube and as a result burst into a fit of coughing. Ginny thumped him hard on the back.

Harry regained his composure just in time to realize that they had just entered the ballroom. Another rush of nerves overtook him, and it seemed like his stomach was trying to throttle his windpipe. He released a strangled little gurgle.

"Are you all right?" Ginny asked, "You don't look at all well. Maybe it was something you ate?" She looked around with concern at the stream of guests now pouring into the room around them, examining them all for signs of illness.

"No…I'm…I'm fine," Harry managed. He could hear this sound of the band tuning their instruments over the excited murmurings of the crowd. He pulled at his collar and tried to channel his famous bravery. Defeating dark wizards was one thing, but girls were something all together more frightening. "Listen Ginny," he uttered, "I was wondering if…I mean…whether…only if you want to…"

"Ahhh," a voice interrupted, "There's my girl. I believe your first dance is mine." Harry drew his attention from Ginny to see a beaming Mr. Weasley standing expectantly in front of him. Harry felt a moment of both great relief and bitter disappointment as he watched Ginny's father lead her away.

Harry drew himself over towards the side of the room where he could observe the dance floor. He had just situated himself alongside a bust of Floogle Castle's fifth owner, Elizabeth Rivenwood, when the music began in earnest. He watched as Ginny and her father whirled gracefully around. As soon as the song was finished, Harry made to pull away from the wall and intercept Ginny, but Bill was faster. Again disappointed, Harry sunk back against the wall. Later, he tried to catch Ginny's eye as she jitterbugged past with Fred to let her know to find him when she was finished with her brothers, but he couldn't be sure he had gotten her attention.

After she had danced with each of her brothers in turn, Ginny waltzed once more with her father before being swept off by Lee Jordan. Harry pushed off from his spot near the bust and began prowling the room. A dance with Colin Creevey followed her dance with Lee. After Colin was Denis, after Denis was Dean Thomas, and after Dean was Luna's husband Lance. As the night wore on and Ginny's partners changed with alarming frequency, Harry found his left eye was twitching angrily as he pointed followed her progress on the dance floor.

"Why are you rampaging about like an angry hippogriff?" demanded a voice coming from the witch blocking his path.

Harry glared down angrily only to alter his expression the moment he realized the question had come from Hermione. "What?" he asked stupidly.

"You heard me," she said. "You've be stomping around the room all night."

"I'm not stomping," Harry offered as a pitiful defense. "I'm just stretching my legs a bit."

"Why don't you try dancing?" Hermione suggested with a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

"Dancing." Harry was annoyed to find his voice cracked.

"Yes," Hermione responded, "that is why we have a band here."

Harry glanced around to see that Ginny was fox-trotting and talking animatedly with Professor Dumbledore. "Ginny's busy," he muttered.

A bewildering twinkle appeared instantly in Hermione's eyes. "Well you could ask some other lady to dance."

Harry shot Hermione a confused glance. "You want to dance with me?" he asked bluntly.

Hermione rolled her eyes so sharply it was a wonder that she couldn't see through the top of her skull. "Harry I can barely walk," she uttered.

"Well then," Harry said sharply, "I'm going to continue stomping." Lee Jordan making his way towards where Ginny and Dumbledore danced drew his attention away. Hermione released an exasperated sigh before wondering away to join Ron on a nearby bench.

Harry continued his progress around the room until he happened by a large gilded mirror. Dashing a quickly look around to insure no one was looking, Harry drew himself over towards the wall on which it hung. He carefully examined his appearance. Years ago, Harry had traded in his characteristic round glasses for a higher quality and more mature oblong, silver fames. His eyes, which of all his features he could be vain about, still looked as emerald green as ever. The scar on his forehead had faded in prominence but remained stubbornly visible. His hair was untidy at best, but it gave him an overall windswept look. His body had retained the lean, muscular build of a professional athlete. _Why doesn't Ginny want to dance with me? _Harry thought, _I'm an okay looking bloke_. He pulled on his tie, which had managed to arrange itself crookedly again.

"Professor Lockhart," a mocking voice said from behind him, "It's so nice to know that you've finally been released from St. Mungo's."

Harry whirled around to find Ginny standing right behind him. Her eyes were alight with laughter, and her face flushed from dancing. Harry found his own face becoming warmer and no doubt redder.

"Your tie is crooked again," she said with a sigh reaching her hands up to straighten the garment once again. "There," she whispered. She patted him gently on the chest before raising her gaze to his.

Harry found himself transfixed by the specks of gold that danced in her eyes. "Would you like to dance?" he blurted suddenly.

A smile spread magically across her lips. "I'd love to," she replied and offered her arm to him.

As Harry lead Ginny into the very center of the dance floor, he couldn't hide the triumphant grin from his face. He hesitated though when they turned to face each other. "I'm not a very good dancer," he admitted to her in hushed tones.

"Pfft," she replied off-handedly guiding one of his hands to the small of her back and clasping the other one. "Who cares? Just follow my lead."

The song that was planning had sort of mellow swing beat, and the lyrics spoke of moon dancing. Ginny, like the rest of the Weasley family, was a superb dancer. For the first time in his entire life, Harry thought he might have gotten this dancing bit down right. Not once did he feel the least like a drunken gnome, and as one song blended seamlessly into another, he thought he could go on like this forever.

"This band is rather good," Ginny commented as they swung close by the stage.

"I'm glad you like them," Harry murmured unable to hide his self-congratulatory grin.

"There's something different about them," Ginny continued, "I can't quite put my finger on it."

"Oh," Harry remarked offhandedly, "The bass player is a Muggle."

"Really," Ginny sighed. She manipulated the next turn of their dance so that she could peer over Harry's shoulder at the band. "I wonder how she got involved in a wizarding band."

"I think the lead singer is her cousin or something," Harry remarked. "It was a huge controversy a few years back when the band first started playing on the wireless, but the harshest criticism has died down. I'm not very into music, but if I had to pick a favorite, the Chocolate Frogs would be it. Maybe it's because they cover a lot of Muggle standards."

Ginny gave a thoughtful nod and a little "hmmm" in reply. They became engrossed again in the movement of the dance. Harry was struck for the second time how effortless the task of dancing seemed when partnered with Ginny. He had even managed the dreaded small talk that most girls seemed to deem necessary.

"Is that Michael Corner dancing with Cho Chang?" Ginny asked.

Harry felt his jaw clench involuntarily as he followed her gaze over towards a couple dancing not very far away. "Yeah," Harry muttered. "They got married not long out of Hogwarts."

Ginny seemed to find this very funny. She muffled her laughter, but her eyes glowed with merriment. Harry was suddenly at a loss to remember why he even cared about the other couple. "My first boyfriend married your first girlfriend," she said coyly, "what do you suppose that means?"

Harry had a witty reply on his tongue, but was interrupted by a tap on his shoulder. He turned angrily towards the intruder only to find himself looking into Ron's smiling face. "Hey mate," Ron said brightly, "You're hogging the guest of honor."

Harry looked around embarrassedly. How many songs had he and Ginny danced through? Harry gulped inwardly as he searched his memory for some etiquette lesson he had undoubtedly sat through years ago. How many times could a gentleman dance with a lady before it raised eyebrows?

"Mind if I cut in, mate?" Ron asked tentatively. He seemed to be confused by Harry's strange expression.

"Go ahead," Harry said quickly. He thanked Ginny for the dance and made his way off the floor. Automatically, he headed towards where Hermione was now seated, but something about her gratified, smug look turned Harry in the opposite direction. The last thing Harry needed was Hermione's innuendos about his behavior towards Ginny, so he decided that his time would be better spent catching up with his old Quidditch teammates.


End file.
